


Beyond the Sea

by dumbhuman



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, CrissColfer Big Bang, Disney, Disney Cruise Line, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Vacation, crisscolfer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbhuman/pseuds/dumbhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Seventeen year old Chris is going on his first real vacation: A Disney cruise with his aunt, uncle, and cousin. What he expects to be a fun getaway of baby-sitting, waiting in line to get autographs, and avoiding the sun gets turned on its head when his family is seated with the Criss's at dinner. Eighteen year old Darren, an experienced cruiser, suggests that he act as Chris's tour guide for the week-long voyage, and Chris agrees, not realizing that seven days is definitely enough time to fall head over heels for someone. But will they have their Happily Ever After?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this...wow, this was a lot of work. Before this, the most I'd written at once was maybe 5k. So a 15,000 word minimum was nowhere near my comfort zone. A plot? What do you mean I have to have a plot? 
> 
> I'm so, so glad I did this though. I want to thank Lindsey and Cass so much for setting [this](crisscolferbigbang.tumblr.com) up. 5 months and 21k later, I have accomplished something I never even dreamed of. Is it perfect? Dear god no. But I did it, and that's what counts.
> 
> I'd also like to thank [Alyssa](roblaine.tumblr.com) for being my fabulous beta, [Valerie](http://i-wanna-be-a-klaine-ship-ranger.tumblr.com) for the AMAZING [art](http://i-wanna-be-a-klaine-ship-ranger.tumblr.com/post/75116017544/illustration-for-sarahs-story-beyond-the), and my friend [Chelsea](http://brightandcurly.tumblr.com/) for pushing me through this from the beginning.
> 
> Title from [Beyond the Sea](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJRg-FeDCWM) by Charles Trenet. (You'll probably recognize it as the song in the credits of Finding Nemo!) All chapter pictures were taken by me.

 

Chris really doesn’t want to be here.

Okay, part of him wants to be here, because a free vacation is a free vacation, but still. A vacation without his parents and sister just isn’t the same. When it turned out that Hannah’s medication wasn’t doing anything anymore, that they’d have to start fresh and hope, _pray_ , for the best until something that actually fucking helped came along, Chris had expected them to cancel the cruise altogether.

When his parents had transferred the tickets to his aunt and uncle and their 4 year old daughter, he hadn’t been surprised. But when his mom had insisted that he should go with them, should take advantage of that fourth ticket? Yeah, he hadn’t really expected that.

It actually hadn’t taken that long for him to give in. It really sucked that the rest of his family couldn’t go, but they couldn’t get a refund on the ticket at that point. They were lucky that they could transfer the passes at all. He’d actually been excited for the trip, when he wasn’t busy feeling guilty. But now, sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair, trying to entertain his restless cousin as they wait for their boarding number to be called? His excitement might be waning a little bit. If the roomful of impatient children isn’t grating enough, the feeling that his skin is melting off of his body hasn’t relented since he stepped off of the plane in Orlando, despite the AC being blasted through the terminal. His shorts feel glued to his thighs, and his faded Mickey Mouse t-shirt is suffocating. Fuck, humidity is awful.

Thankfully, his aunt and uncle barrell through the crowd, rushing over to stuff Wendy’s scattered toys into the small backpack they’d brought to hold the essentials. Chris’s Aunt Leah had spent hours upon hours on cruise message boards in preparation for this trip, and apparently it isn’t unheard of for passengers to be waiting on bags past dinner. Hence the backpack Chris is now slipping onto his shoulders, toiletries and a change of clothes for each of them tucked safely inside.

“They called our group, it’s time to board.”

Uncle Mark hoists Wendy into his arms, and they maneuver toward the crowd, which has admittedly thinned quite a bit since getting through security a bit over an hour ago. Chris makes sure to stay behind his relatives, handing his Key to the World card to the smiling cast member as he passes through the silhouette of Mickey’s head that leads to the ship. Once he manages to slide it back into the thin plastic pouch on the cheap lanyard his aunt had given him, he lifts his head, his gaze landing on a cheerful “Welcome Aboard” sign.

It’s then that he realizes this is actually happening. He gets to spend a whole week on a real vacation, with free food, live entertainment, and _no school_. He starts to grin with excitement, not even caring about how ridiculous he must look when they get their picture taken by another cast member in front of the cheesy Disney Cruise Line backdrop. He heads back over to photographer’s assistant, who hands back his card. “Here you go, sir. This and all other photos taken on board will be available at Shutters photo studio on Deck 4. Head right over there to the gangway, and enjoy your time on the Disney Magic!”

Sure, it’s probably rehearsed, but the man’s words still have Chris thrumming with excitement. He rushes to catch up with the others, his heartbeat picking up as he crosses the metal platform.

And then they’re on the ship.

Chris barely registers a woman in a white uniform asking Wendy a question, her voice announcing “Disney Magic, please welcome aboard the Colfer family!”, the cheering men and women in oversized Mickey Mouse gloves cheering around them. No, he’s way too busy trying to take in how _beautiful_ everything is. The brightly colored carpets, the marble staircases, the clear elevators taking passengers to their rooms on his right. He’s marveling at the huge bronze statue of Captain Mickey at a ship’s wheel when he hears Wendy gasp, turning his head to see her pointing above them. And, wow, that chandelier is gorgeous, an explosion of colorful blown glass.

“Close your mouths, you two. We can explore later. Right now, it’s time for lunch!” Chris flushes a bit when his aunt calls him out on his gaping, but she’s grinning when he looks at her. “Now, who’s going to find a map? We need to find Parrot Cay..."

-

After a wonderful buffet lunch - Chris could eat their macaroni and cheese for the next week, and he’s pretty sure Wendy would gladly join him - they decide to head up to their stateroom. After consulting yet another of the numerous maps, they decide that the the aft elevators will get them closest to the cabin they’ve been assigned. There’s a brief consultation with an available crewmember to determine which way aft is, and after realizing that it’s the back of the ship, the group is on their way back the way they came. Which makes sense, considering their other options were mid and forward, but it’s kind of hard to tell if they’re going toward the front or the back when they don’t know how the ship is laid out yet, okay? The guy was really nice about giving directions, and Chris is sure that’s probably like 60% of what the employees do on a daily basis, but he still vows to study the ship directory until he can find his way around without help. He notices the large sign proclaiming “AFT” in big bold letters a few feet above the map they had consulted by the elevators and scowls, glaring at the letters that seem to be mocking him.

Aunt Leah and Uncle Mark decide to wait for an elevator, something about being full and tired and old, but Chris notices Wendy squirming where she’s standing.

“Hey Wendy? Do you wanna race me up the stairs? It’s only three floors!”

She shrieks and runs toward the deep-blue carpeted staircase, climbing up them as fast as her tiny legs will allow. Chris laughs and turns back to his aunt and uncle.

“We’ll meet you up there, okay? I have my key.” After confirming their room number, he makes his way up the stairs at a decidedly slower pace than his giggling cousin.

-

The stateroom is...pretty much what he expects. He had taken the time to do a virtual tour online a few weeks ago, so he already had an idea of what the size and layout would be. A queen size bed, a couch that folds down into another bed, two bathrooms - one with a toilet and one with a shower, a small closet, a storage trunk, and a desk with even more storage. Not the most exciting thing, but he's not planning on spending a lot of time in here anyway.

What he wasn’t expecting was how comfortable the bed is. He has his head burrowed beneath the multitude of pillows when he hears the door open, followed by the rapid pattering of Wendy’s feet as she abandons the couch and runs to her parents.

“Mommy, Daddy, Chris is being _silly_. He’s sleeping!”

If he had been asleep, his cousin’s declaration would have definitely changed that, but he plays along and lets out an exaggerated snore. It’s not that hard to fake, really. Traveling always makes him tired, and this bed is glorious.

“Well, maybe Chris has the right idea, pumpkin.” Chris cracks open an eye, just in time to see Wendy let out a huge yawn, and catches his aunt’s wink. “It’s been a long day already, and you don’t want to be sleepy during the show tonight. Why don’t you take a nap?”

Chris bites his lip to keep from laughing at the scowl on his cousin’s face.

“Naps are for little kids! I’m a big girl!”

Aunt Leah pets her daughter’s hair, but her arms remain crossed until he mom points out “Chris is a big kid, right? He’s taking a nap.”

Wendy looks back to the bed, and Chris rushes to close his eyes, letting out another fake snore. He might not actually be sleeping yet, but it probably won’t take long.

“Why don’t you go snuggle up with your cousin while Mommy and Daddy look around the ship, okay? We’ll take one of the fancy phones they gave us and you can call if you need us.” Chris’s uncle grabs one of the two WavePhones off of the desk, making sure it’s charged. Wendy insists on hugging her parents, which kind of makes Chris’s heart melt, and then they’re out the door.

Chris blinks slowly a few times, pretending the heavy door closing ‘woke him up’. “Oh, hi honey. Do you want to snuggle with me?”

Wendy kicks her shoes off and jumps on to the bed, squirming her way into Chris’s arms. He hums contentedly and gives in to the tug of sleep. Yeah, he’s officially on vacation.

-

They sleep for about an hour, which is perfect because the lifeboat drill is due to start in 30 minutes. Thankfully, the nap seems to have done Wendy a lot of good, and she’s rested instead of cranky. Chris sends a quick message to his aunt’s WavePhone and determines that she and his uncle are on their way back to the cabin. He takes the liberty of helping Wendy into her child size life vest – mandatory for the drill – and chuckles to himself as she fidgets. He doesn’t blame her for not being a fan of the constricting flotation device, his isn’t especially comfortable either.

Leah and Mark return just as the announcement explaining the drill sounds of the ship wide PA system. They slip into their respective life vests, and a few minutes later they’re joining the crowd in the hallway, following the crewmembers on their deck to their meeting point as the obnoxious alarms ring in their ears.

The drill itself isn’t too miserable. Going down the attendance list for each stateroom in their group takes a bit of time, but it’s thankfully somewhat cool on deck. Chris quietly plays Miss Mary Mack with his cousin to pass the time, and fifteen minutes later they’re filing back out with the crowd. A quick conversation back in the stateroom with his aunt determines that it will just be Chris and Wendy at the Sail Away party. He doesn’t blame the adults for taking advantage of the 18+ sections of the ship, and it gives him more quality time with his cousin.

Chris slips his key card into the front pocket of his shorts and grabs the remaining WavePhone, just in case he needs to contact his aunt and uncle. He turns out the light on their way out, noticing a few of their suitcases in the hall on their short walk to the elevators. He lets Wendy press the button, watching as she runs back and forth between the metallic doors, trying to guess which will open first. They hear the tell-tale ding from the far right, - making his cousin pout adorably as he holds her back while a few people get off on their floor - and enter the still crowded compartment. Chris isn’t surprised that the button for Deck 9 is already lit up; most of the passengers are probably going to the party.

Sure enough, once they reach their floor, it takes a while for all of them to be able to exit the elevator. And they aren’t even _outside_ yet. This is going to be interesting.

-

They end up on Deck 10 instead, Wendy on Chris’s shoulders as they watch the performers from over the railing. That is, until Wendy insists on being put down so she can follow along with the dance moves that Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Minnie, and Daisy are teaching them. Chris waves his hands in the air with the rest of them, spurred on by the huge grin that hasn’t left Wendy’s face since they’d walked onto the deck. It’s ridiculous and so much fun.

Before they know it, the beloved characters are waving goodbye and walking back up the staircases. _Fuck, they must be melting in those costumes_. Chris hopes that the character actors can see the joy on the faces in front of them while they’re performing. If he was in one of those costumes, he’s sure that view would make it all worth it.

He clings to Wendy’s hand as they shuffle along with the flow of the crowd, everyone heading toward the elevators. He checks his watch - they still have about half an hour until dinner - and impulsively pulls his cousin to the side of the ship. He’s a bit too nervous to pick her up this close to the edge of the railing, so he drags over one of the countless lounge chair for her to Wendy to stand on. She’s surprisingly quiet, holding Chris’s hand as they watch the coast of Florida get further and further away, seemingly by inches at a time. When his watch tells them that they can’t stay any longer, they walk hand in hand to the elevators, passing other stragglers and the few deckhands, cleaning up the aftermath of a shipwide party. It’s funny; he can barely feel that they’re moving.

-

Chris is nothing if not stubborn. They’ve been seated in the brightly colored Parrot Cay for less than fifteen minutes when he feels that tell-tale pinching feeling at the back of his tongue, the icky feeling in his throat that he can't swallow away. He tries to ignore it, instead trying to focus on their server, concentrating on understanding her thick French accent. He can't really see her name tag from here, he’d zoned out a bit when she'd introduced herself. Oh well, he has six more nights to learn it. 

He stirs the straw in his Diet Coke, weirdly enamored by the way the condensation is dripping down the side of the glass. He really hopes the other family seated with them doesn’t think he’s being rude. The Criss’s seem nice enough. It’s not their fault that he’s not really participating in the generic dinner conversation. He looks over at the, wow, _incredibly_ attractive guy around his age, opening his mouth to make some stupid remark about his Buzz Lightyear t-shirt.

And then he’s out of his chair and running toward the exit.

He hears his aunt call out to him, but keeps going. He waves his hand in thanks to the staff member stationed at the door who calls out "Sharp left after the elevators, door's on your right" as he runs by. He'd wonder how often this must happen if he wasn't so focused on not adding the contents of the lunch buffet to the already chaotically-patterned carpet. 

He pushes open the door to the - thankfully empty - bathroom, the tastefully muted décor and instrumental cover of Be Our Guest coming quietly through the speakers lost on him as he heads straight to the nearest toilet. He doesn't even bother closing the stall door, just braces his hands on his knees as he lets go. 

So, the Dramamine definitely isn't working. 

God, is the rocking _ever_ going to stop?

He’s leaning against the side of the stall, appreciating the coolness on his overheated cheek, when the door opens. He weakly waves his arm in an attempt to close the door to the stall when he notices who it is. 

The guy from his table. The unfairly hot one with the hair. And he’s coming straight towards him. 

As he takes the few steps to reach Chris - the bathroom is pretty but still very, very small - he reaches into the pocket of his shorts. Chris blinks down at the packet of Wisps in his hand. 

"You go on a few of these things, you know how shitty the first night is." He fiddles with the plastic, eyes lighting up when he finally gets one of the little plastic toothbrushes free, and hands it over. "Something about going through the Gulf Stream, I think. Don't worry, this should be the worst of it."

Chris doesn't say anything, just walks over to the sink, using one of his teeth to pop the little toothpaste capsule. The concentrated taste of mint is definitely preferable to the gross acidity that covers his teeth. All too soon, the little bit of plastic is useless. He grimaces at the remnants of sick that haven't quite been eliminated, but turns to leave anyway. His family’s probably worrying. 

He bumps smack into a body, not realizing the guy was still behind him. Oops. Chris accepts the new Wisp from the outstretched hand, a wry smile on his face. 

"I told you, nothing new. I know that one of these doesn't quite do the trick."

Chris's mouth is otherwise occupied, but they lock eyes in the mirror for a brief second. One more sadly short lived burst of mint later, Chris straightens up. As he throws the now-useless bit of plastic into the trash can, he mumbles a ‘thank you’, his face heating up as he pretends to be incredibly interested in the wallpaper. No way he is making eye contact any time soon. 

“I’m Darren, by the way.”

He had already introduced himself back at the table, but Chris appreciates the gesture, attempting to stifle his embarrassment as he takes the outstretched hand and shakes it. He can’t remember the last time he shook hands with someone, not to mention someone his own age. It’s...nice, actually. He can feel the faint brush of the calluses on Darren’s fingers against his palm. And then it’s over, and they’re just two boys awkwardly standing in a tiny - yet immaculately decorated - bathroom. Chris sends a thank you to whatever dead guy invented automatic toilets. The smell seems to be gone, thank god.

“Oh, I’m Chris.”

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting his gaze around the room.

“Oh, I know.” Chris looks up from the sparkly black tile when Darren speaks, the other boy noticing how awkward the moment is, if his blush is anything to go by. It’s gone in an instant, though, and Darren’s back to grinning and bouncing in place. Chris would bet money that it was his leg that was shaking under the tablecloth when they were back in the dining room. He doesn’t seem capable of keeping still.

“So, if you’re feeling better, we could go back to the dining room? Or you could go back to your room. Even though you should really eat something, at least that’s what my mom would say. They have some really kick-ass chicken noodle soup here, and it’s on the menu tonight. Well, the kids’ menu, but I order from it all the time. Probably way more than the actual menu, now that I think about it. It has little Mickey-shaped pieces of pasta, dude! And celery and carrots and-”

Okay, he can’t shut up for more than ten seconds either. Good to know. Chris holds his hand up, cutting Darren off before he runs out of air.

“Soup sounds fantastic, thanks.” It really does. He barely feels sick anymore.

And with that realization, the boat lurches to the side a bit more forcefully than it has been. Chris feels himself stumbling, but suddenly, there’s a hand gripping his arm and holding him still. Darren’s grinning and his eyes seem to sparkle a bit in the dim lighting.

“I’ve got you. I promise, it’ll be loads better tomorrow. The rest of the week is so fucking worth it.”

“I’m holding you to that, Mr. Seasoned Cruiser. I’ll file a formal complaint if you don’t pull through. If we hit rough waters, I’m blaming you.”

Darren’s bright laugh startles Chris a bit, but the smile afterwards is really a good look on him.

“Dude, I would be the best tour guide ever. I would totally work here if I could.” He pauses in thought, and then suddenly his hands are flailing around him. Chris winces in sympathy when he smacks his hand against a wall, but Darren doesn’t even seem to notice in his excitement.

“Oh my god, Chris! I could be your tour guide! It would be so awesome. I could show you all of the best things about this ship. Oh my god, we _have_ to sneak into the kids’ club somehow. Oh, and ice cream! And there’s this really awesome little deck that I think is only for the crew members but it’s so easy to get there and we totally need to go because…”

Chris doesn’t miss Darren’s use of _we_. The casual way he just slips Chris into his plans is a little overwhelming, really. But absolutely wonderful.

Chris gently prods Darren’s shoulder, effectively stopping his tirade of activities and events that they just _need_ to see throughout the week “because Chris, there are babies crawling around the lobby! What’s more adorable than that?”

Which, okay, that one’s a bit confusing. He blinks to refocus, Darren’s wide eyes expectant.

“Okay, that actually sounds really great. You’re hired.”

Darren actually fist pumps - what the hell did Chris just get himself into? - and then the door’s being held open. Darren sweeps his free arm toward the exit.

“After you, kind sir.”

Chris laughs at the ridiculous bow Darren’s managed to bend himself into.

“You’re my tour guide, not my servant.” He giggles as he walks into the hallway, Darren running in front of him once he realizes tour guides are supposed to actually, y’know, guide.

They make it back to Parrot Cay in one piece. Chris apologizes for his hasty exit, assuring both Aunt Leah and Mrs. Criss that, yes, he’s fine. Wendy’s already well into her mac & cheese, and she grins at him before Darren gets her attention and promptly makes a ridiculous face that makes her giggle. Which is actually really adorable.

Chris thanks their server - Miranda, okay, he really needs to remember that - as she refills the glass in front of him with Diet Coke. Khaled comes around and takes his and Darren’s orders, and they share a smile that feels like a secret when they both order the chicken noodle soup.

Yeah, this vacation is going to be interesting.

 


	2. Day Two

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/i1251bahb/)

Chris wakes up suddenly, almost slamming his head against the cool metal above him. It takes him a second to realize where he is and why exactly there is something metal hanging from his bedroom ceiling. Except he’s not in his bedroom. He absently stretches out his left arm to grab his glasses from his nightstand, blinking when his knuckles brushed a wall instead. Oh, right. Not his room, not his nightstand. He rolls over and pushes himself up, intending to retrieve his glasses from the coffee table where he left them last night. He thankfully remembers to duck this time.  Leave it to the four year old to insist on the top bunk.

As he puts on the frames - which, wow, how did they get this dirty? - Chris is startled into almost maiming himself once again by a loud, unrelenting knocking on the door.

Well, that might explain the sudden wake up call.

He blearily makes his way across the small cabin to apologize to their housekeeper for holding up his route, but it's not Jean-Michel that greets him when Chris pokes his head out. Instead, he's met with a dripping wet mop of curly hair attached to a very, very tanned bare chest. He leans an arm against the door frame and watches the trail of a water droplet as it makes it's way to the waistband of a pair of swim trunks before snapping his head back up, not meeting the pair of warm eyes as he feels heat flood his face and chest. No, definitely not housekeeping.

"Hey Chris! Sorry for waking you, but dude, it's noon.” If anything, Darren seems oblivious to his leering. Definitely a plus. “When I ran into your family on the pool deck and they said you were still in bed I thought they were kidding. We only have a few days on this ship, man! Make the most of it!"

Before Chris knows what's happening, Darren is suddenly inside his room, flopping down on the couch and turning on one of the 24-hour movie channels.

"Fuck yeah, Hercules is the shit!"

Chris just stares until Darren turns away from the tiny stateroom tv, humming along to _Zero to Hero_ ,  to look back at him. "Dude, get dressed! We don't have all day! Well, okay, it is a sea day, but still-"

Chris doesn't really catch whatever else Darren rambles about. He's a bit more focused on the realization that he's wearing nothing but his boxers. He’d been exhausted last night, despite his nap, and everyone was asleep when he'd gotten back to the room. It hadn’t seemed like a bad idea at the time, but now he feels exposed in the thin fabric. And, thanks to Darren and the stupid pool water, he's more than a little bit turned on. Fuck.

He feels heat flooding his body, hyperaware of the flush spreading across his chest as he grabs the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that his hands land on before he runs into the bathroom mumbling something that he hopes conveys that he’s going to shower. The click as he turns the knob to lock the door is loud in the tiny space, and Chris closes the lid to the toilet and sits down on it. That was one hell of a wake up call.

He can’t believe it’s already noon. Sure, he and Darren had been up late the night before. They’d met outside of the Walt Disney Theatre in time to see the All Aboard show together, their families not objecting to sitting together. The show had been pretty good - he didn’t know pyrotechnics were even allowed on cruise ships - but Darren had spent the entire time whispering commentary in his ear. For some reason, Chris really hadn’t minded hearing about the one time that Goofy had come onstage an entire number too early. It might have had something to do with how he's been so close in his effort not to disturb the people around them that Chris had gotten goosebumps from the heat of his breath on his ear.

A well-timed crescendo in one of the muses' power numbers broke Chris out of his reverie, and he scrambles to turn on the shower. Darren's waiting on him. Right.  

He's squeezing a dollop of complimentary shampoo into his hand when he hears a voice singing along to Go The Distance on the other side of the wall. Chris stops himself from turning the shower off to hear better because, wow, that would be creepy as fuck.

This isn't the first time he's heard Darren sing. They'd stopped back at his room (the Criss's have a veranda, which Chris is jealous of) to grab Darren's guitar after the show, and then they'd settled into the nook between the Deck 2 elevators. Darren knows the chords to a surprising amount of Disney songs, and they'd traded verses and stories into the wee hours of the morning.

When the hell had Darren slept last night?

Chris turns of the water and grabs one of the fluffy towels off of the the rack. He wavers between taking his time to look good and rushing to get ready. His impatience wins out, so he gets dressed and yanks a brush through his wet hair a few times, knowing it'll dry quickly enough if they go to any of the open decks.

When he unlocks and opens the door, he's greeted with the image of Darren sprawled across his rumpled sheets. It makes sense, it's the best view of the tv, but Chris still blushes at the thought that there's a boy in his bed, even if it is for completely innocent reasons.

His mind wanders once again to the night before. Apparently they're both from California - San Francisco for Darren, the lucky bastard. He'd actually found it a bit difficult to really understand just how much Clovis sucks. There was a lot of "Wait, people actually _think_ that?" as Chris described his conservative town. He's a realist to the core, but he's still a bit envious of Darren's naive optimism. He's kind of like a little kid, unquestioningly seeing the best in the world.

Darren's resemblance to a child is definitely highlighted now. He's sitting pretzel-style on the bed, mouthing along to Hades' dialogue, his curls bouncing around whenever he gets really into it. Chris smiles and clears his throat, stepping into the main part of the room

"Ready to go! Unless you want to just watch movies all day, because I'm totally up for that..."

Chris laughs as Darren deliberates, a concentrated frown on his face.

"As fun as that sounds, no movie-cuddle party. At least, not today. I have plans, Christopher! Exciting plans!"

He's off the bed in one fluid motion, grabbing Chris's hand and pulling him toward the door. He hits the switch on the wall, turning off the tv and submerging the room into darkness. When they're in the hallway, Chris turns around to face Darren, hands on his hips.

"You really didn't need to manhandle me out the door. Besides, what if I told you I forgot to grab my key?"

Darren smirks, eyebrows raised. "I'd call bullshit. You don't really seem like the type to forget anything. Which totally balances out how fucking scatterbrained I am."

Chris stifles a giggle as Darren apologizes profusely to an angry mother who seems extremely worried that her son is going to pick up on Darren's...adult language. Thankfully, the little boy seems much more preoccupied with mooning the other passengers waiting for the elevators, cutting her tirade off short.

Darren rolls his eyes, the ding of the elevator conveniently cutting off whatever equally inappropriate comment he was going to make. They're lucky; most of the people around them are waiting to go down. Their elevator is blissfully empty.

Darren presses the button for deck 9 and leans back against the wall, humming along to the instrumental cover of ‘Be Our Guest’ that is drifting through the small space. It occurs to Chris that he has no idea where they're going.

"So what's on deck nine?" He isn't sure if Darren will answer, or if he wants it to be a surprise, but the metal doors open before he can find out, the electronic voice announcing that they have indeed reached their desired floor.

"Welcome to Topsider Buffet. Enjoy your meal!" A dark man with a thick Jamaican accent smiles at them as he hands each boy a moist towelette. The dutifully wipe their hands and toss the cloths in the trash cans that stand on either side of the doorway.

"In case your powers of deduction are worse than I thought, I'm taking you to lunch." Darren smirks as he leads the way to a small table. The dining room is crowded, but Darren has managed to find an almost-quiet nook.

Chris follows Darren to the buffet line. His plate is warm against his palms as he moves down the cold line, considering a single-serve container of Frosted Flakes before grabbing a few cantaloupe slices instead. They hold up the line a bit as Darren piles every type of fruit available into his bowl – “Just not the honeydew, Chris. Honeydew is always shit.” – but most people seem to be avoiding the fruit station anyway. Vacation and all that.

They each get a Mickey Mouse shaped waffle, Chris choosing to drizzle his with syrup while Darren shakes the container of powdered sugar so hard Chris is afraid the top will come off. Hash browns and a couple slices of bacon later, they’re back at the table. Darren sets his tray down but stays standing, looking up at Chris. “I’m getting some juice. Do you want anything?”

“Um, apple juice is fine, thanks.” He smiles back at the other boy. Darren turns to walk over to the drink station, and Chris doesn’t realize that he’s staring until he almost adds salt to his waffle instead of to his eggs. Thankfully, Darren’s too busy trying not to spill the too-full glasses while navigating the maze of tables to notice.

Darren makes it back to the table in one piece, and the way his eyes crinkle at Chris’s stupid “And he stuck the landing!” joke makes butterflies take refuge in his stomach. _It’s just a smile_ , he tries to convince himself. _Just a really fucking adorable smile._

“So, um, what are the plans for today, Oh Great and Fabulous Tour Guide?” Darren moves to open his mouth, then thinks better of it, holding a finger up as he chews his eggs. He makes ridiculous faces that almost make Chris spit juice everywhere. Thankfully, he swallows his food before anything drastic – or disgusting – happens.

“Well, we determined getting off of the ship is off the list, right?”

Chris flushes in embarrassment, rushing to apologize yet again. “Darren, I told you, you can go to the beach with your family if you want to. There’s no need to ditch your family because of me, this is your vacation too-“

He’s cut off by a finger that’s suddenly on his lips. He looks up into the warm eyes that are now only a few inches away from his own.

“Dude, we’ve been through this. I _want_ to hang out with you. I want you to have a fucking magical vacation, okay? I can go to the beach with my parents any old time. San Fran, remember? You don’t like the beach, you don’t want to chance getting burnt, and that’s totally valid. There are hundreds of other things to do on this ship, and I want to show you as many as possible over the next 6 days.”

Chris has the sudden, overwhelming urge to plant a kiss against the calloused skin, but he leans back and folds his arms before he does anything ridiculously stupid.

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop apologizing. I am paying you for your services, after all.” He flushes as he says it, the implications only hitting him after the words have passed his lips. But Darren’s laughing, so that’s something.

“Oh, are you? I don’t remember discussing a payment plan.”

Chris adopts a haughty expression, going so far as to put his nose in the air.

“Your reward is getting to hang out with me, obviously.” He looks down his nose, surprised by the soft expression on Darren’s face. He seems to be absorbed in the Navigator in front of him, scouring the itinerary, but his voice is quiet when he speaks.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely priceless.”

-

Chris is still trying to figure out what Darren meant when they reach the Promenade Lounge. A few tables have been gathered around the piano, and there are already a few small groups of guests seated and talking quietly. Chris notices a few young kids – maybe seven or eight years old – playing tag in the corner as they wait for their parents to stop them.

Darren bumps Chris’s shoulder with his own. “I’m going to get us an answer sheet and a pencil. Find us a seat?”

Chris nods and makes his way toward the far side of the piano, angling the chairs so they’re both the stage. He can’t help watching Darren as he chats with the woman in the embroidered navy polo that marks her as a cast member. He smiles a little at Darren’s overzealous expression – he’s obviously very into whatever story he’s telling – but that feeling turns sour as he hears the woman’s laughter ringing out across the room, obviously in response to something Darren said. An ugly feeling twists deep in Chris’s gut, and he’s sure it isn’t seasickness this time. He quickly berates himself for the ridiculous twinge of jealousy. He has no claim on Darren. They’re just friends, if that. It’s been less than 24 hours since they met for crying out loud. Way to be clingy, Colfer.

He jumps at the sound of Darren’s chair scraping across the floor as the guy in question pulls it away from the table. He plops down in it, and suddenly Chris is smiling, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

“So, Chris, are you ready to kick ass at,” he glances down at the paper, reading off the title in the signature Disney font, “Disney Music Trivia?”

Chris cracks his knuckles and picks up the pencil.

“Oh totally. I mean, I’ve been training for this prestigious event all my life. You should see my iPod. I’m just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up?”

Darren picks up on the teasing lilt to Chris’s voice, and his jaw drops as he splays a hand against his chest. “Why, Christopher! I’m offended! Did my impressive repertoire of Disney chord progressions show you nothing more than my need to get a life?”

Chris laughs – _giggles_ – at that. He clears his throat in an attempt to cover it up.

“That’s true. Still, only time will tell if we’re the perfect team.”

Darren actually blushes a bit at that, but his soft response is cut off by the woman Darren was talking to earlier – Gabrielle, apparently – thanking them all for coming and introducing herself and the resident pianist, Andy. The games are about to begin.

“Okay, everyone! The rules are fairly simple. My buddy Andy over here will be playing short sections of 15 Disney songs. Some will be the popular ones that you’ve heard thousands of times, but a few of them will probably be a little bit tricky.”

Chris and Darren grin at each other, both obviously excited over the idea of a challenge.

“You have 15 lines on your paper. However, you have the opportunity to score up to 30 points, two points per song. One for the title, and one for the film it comes from.”

There are a few murmurs as Gabrielle finishes her instructions, and soon they’re on their way.

The first few are fairly easy: “Hakuna Matata – The Lion King”; “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Cinderella”; “Beauty and the Beast – Beauty and the Beast”.  As things get a bit more difficult, Andy gives a few hints, Gabrielle playing it up and scolding the Brit. Chris is on Gabrielle’s side; he wants to see how many he can get on his own, thank you very much. When he says as much to Darren, he points out that Andy’s just making a point to engage the younger kids.

“Besides, you got that one-” he points to number 8, “Never Smile at a Crocodile – Peter Pan”, “long before he made his hand into a hook.”

Chris preens a little bit. Darren’s right, they’re probably kicking ass even with the hints.

The pianist starts his next snippet, and Chris recognizes it immediately. Unfortunately, he can’t remember what the fuck it’s _called_. Or what movie it’s from, for that matter. He looks over at Darren, but he’s biting his lip in thought, brow furrowed in concentration. Chris would find it kind of adorable if he wasn’t so pissed about being stumped. Andy’s made his way back to the chorus, no hints in sight, and Chris starts drumming his fingers on the table. What the fuck is it?!

And then it clicks.

He gasps and grabs for the pencil. Darren gives him a questioning look, but Chris just pulls the paper toward him, intent on scribbling out the title and movie before it leaves him again.

“Dude, what is-“ Darren’s breath is a warm whisper against Chris ear as he leans over his shoulder to see what he’s written. “Oh! Dude, that came out forever ago! I can’t believe you-“

Before he knows what he’s doing, Chris’s hand is on Darren’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, Dare,” he hisses. “Do you want to give it away?”

Darren blinks a few times, and Chris can feel him smile underneath his palm. Which is still pushed against his lips. Right. He pulls his hand away like he’s been burned, missing Darren’s pout as he turns his attention back toward Andy and Gabrielle. He hopes Darren’s too focused on the game to notice the flush that’s made its way up Chris’s neck.

It’s over a lot more quickly than Chris expects. They’ve managed to fill in every answer, which pleases him to no end. Sure, a few of them may have been last minute guesses, but they’re answers nonetheless.

“Alright, everyone! Pencils down. Please trade papers with a team sitting near you.” Darren hands their paper to the couple next to them, both women wearing “Disney Newlyweds!” pins on their dresses. “Oh wow, Lauren. These boys answered all of them!”

Darren flashes them a smile. “Don’t look at me, it was all Chris.”

Chris whips his head around at the sound of his name. He had been paying attention to the stage, waiting for Gabrielle and Andy to go back over the answers, but it seems that another team has called Gabrielle over to resolve a dispute.

“Wait, are you talking about me?”

Darren doesn’t even look a little bit ashamed at being caught.

“Don’t worry, Chris. Nice things, I promise.” He turns back to the couple, whose answer sheet, Chris notices, identifies them as Lauren and Amber. He smiles at the little hearts doodled on their paper, weaving in and out of all of the answers they managed to come up with.

He turns back toward Darren. “Hold on, you never actually said what you said about me!” He flushes at the other boy’s laughter. “Shut up, you know what I meant!”

“Fine, fine. I was just telling Amber and Lauren how you’re responsible for our full answer sheet.”

Chris raises an eyebrow, biting down the grin that Darren’s praise has spurred. “Oh, you’re full of it. I could see you watching Andy’s hands, figuring out chords. You had just as much of a hand in this as I did.”

Darren does have the grace to duck his head at that. “Shut up, Chris. You’re making it sound like I cheated or something.”

The women next to them laugh. Chris honestly forgot they were there.

“Oh you two are adorable! I remember when we flirted like that, don’t you Lauren?”

“What do you mean, when? We still do that.” She leans over toward their table, putting on a stage whisper. “It drives our friends crazy.”

Chris’s mouth hangs open, but before he can set them right, Gabrielle is back at her microphone.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to decide our winners! Get those pencils ready to tally those scores.”

As they go through the songs, Chris focuses in scoring the sheet in front of him, periodically trying to lean around Darren to catch a glimpse of their own score. Darren, on the other hand, is doing what most of the participants seem to be doing: singing along.

"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities, forget about your worries and your strife!" He looks over at Chris, whose eyes are glued to the paper in front of him. "Dude, come on. I know you can sing, remember? Lighten up!"

Chris glares and shakes his head, but he joins in on "I'll Make a Man out of You."

-

They come in second. Twenty-eight points out of thirty. They'd mixed up "You've Got a Friend in Me" from Toy Story and "If I Didn't Have You" from Monster's Inc. (Darren tries to placate him by pointing out that they're both Randy Newman songs from Pixar movies, but Chris just continues glaring at the family with the perfect score, arms crossed.)

They still win a water bottle and a keychain, which Darren gets way too excited about.

"Dude, you keep it! I have a billion of these; they give them out for everything. You're like an official cruiser now!"

Chris grins as Darren presses the cool metal into his palm. He catches Lauren and Amber looking at them, and he matches their quiet smiles. Maybe winning isn’t everything.

 


	3. Day Three

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/hv63ik5xd/)

It’s their first full day at sea, and Chris is getting his first glimpse at just how many people are on the ship. It had seemed crowded enough with half of the passengers exploring Key West yesterday; it’s positively crazy now. When he and Darren had met for breakfast – well, brunch, really – again that morning, the dining room was packed. They’d been forced to sit at a breakfast bar instead of a table, yet Chris hadn’t minded being tucked in next to Darren as they talked and ate. But they had left Topsiders nearly half an hour ago, and have been wandering around the pool are ever since. It’s a bit overcast today, which suits Chris just fine. He and Darren were actually planning to take advantage of the lack of glaring sunshine and spend a few hours by the pool, but that seems to be really unlikely judging by the apparent lack of free deck chairs. Even if they do get lucky in their search, it doesn’t look like there’s enough room in the water for them anyway. The pool is positively teeming with kids.

Chris says as much, and Darren just grabs his hand and pulls him toward the front of the ship. At least, Chris thinks it’s the front of the ship. It’s kind of hard to tell still.

“Where are we going?”

Darren just smirks, not slowing down, so Chris sighs and lets himself get pulled along. Until they reach their destination, that is.

“Darren, we can’t go in here! It’s the adult section!”

“Dude, it’s fine! You said the Goofy pool was too loud and crowded, and look, there’s no one here!” Chris looks around the quiet are. There seems to be a few people on the upper deck, napping in the shade, but Darren’s right. Practically abandoned.

“But still. Won’t we get in trouble? I mean, I’m not 18 yet. Won’t someone kick us out?”

Chris falls silent at the weight of a hand on his upper arm. It’s been three days and he’s still not used to Darren’s version of personal space. “Chris, do you trust me?”

“Are you quoting _Aladdin_? I’m not jumping off of any rooftops for you.” _No matter how cute you are._

“What? Dude, shut up. I’m serious!”

“Fine, yeah. I guess.” Good answer. Much better than _I’ve trusted you from the moment I met you_. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for not blurting something ridiculous out. For once.

"Thanks for the confidence boost, Chris." Darren's face is blank, but Chris can still tell he's joking. Even before he cracks, sticking his tongue out like a five year old.

"Are you sure _you're_ old enough to be here? Sometimes I think Wendy is more mature than you."

Darren's face falls as he brings a hand to his chest. "Ouch, Colfer. That hurt." He straightens back up and grabs Chris's hand again, leading them past the signs declaring _Quiet Cove is reserved for guests 18+_. "Besides, we're on a fucking Disney Cruise. We're supposed to let out our inner child. Or something."

Chris shrugs, ready with a witty retort, but it slips his mind as his eyes land on the bemused looking woman heading right toward them. Her Disney Cruise Line name tag identifies her as Lisa. Shit.

"Hey boys. I was wondering if you're allowed to be back here?" Well, at least she's being nice about it. Chris steps forward, ready to confess and brave the Goofy pool.

"Sorry ma'am, I shouldn't be back here-"

"But it was all my idea, wasn't it Chris?" Darren jumps in front of Chris, talking a mile a minute.

"Sorry miss, we'll leave. It's just, my boyfriend Chris and I," Chris's jaw drops. Did he just-? "We met here on our last cruise. I had snuck in, he was lost. We bumped into each other in that hot tub over there." He points to one of the two hot tubs next to the pool, grabbing Chris's hand with his free one. Well, this is interesting. "We know we're not supposed to be back here - well, okay, I am 18, but Chris is still 17 for a few more weeks. He tried to convince me not to come back here but I really just wanted to recreate how we first met and-"

Lisa's been grinning through most of Darren's speech.

"I'll tell you what. It's really quiet back here today, so I'll let you two slide. But only for half an hour, okay?"

Darren grins while Chris just kind of stares, dumbfounded. "Oh thank you, so much!" He tugs a little, reminding Chris of their still-joined hands. "C'mon sweetie, let's go!"

Chris stumbles along to the hot tub, and it isn't until they're stripped down to their swim shorts that he recollects himself.

"What the hell was _that_?!" he hisses, mindful of Lisa stationed a few feet away.

Darren looks over at him, eyes wide in apology. They both step into the whirlpool, settling on one of the slippery benches, before the words seem to rush out of Darren.

"I'm sorry dude. That was so not cool of me, and I'll feel terrible if it made you uncomfortable. It was the first thing that popped into my head and I just ran with it." He scoots a bit closer to Chris, turning to face him. "Are you okay?"

Chris sighs, his lips quirking up in a smile. "Don't worry, Darren. It didn't make me uncomfortable. I was just...surprised." _Surprised that the first thing that crossed your mind was the idea of being my boyfriend._

Darren visibly relaxes, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as he sinks lower into the hot water. He ends up drifting over to Chris and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Chris tenses a bit in shock, but sees Lisa looking at them from her post. Darren must have noticed her and realized that they didn’t look especially coupley. That must be it.

Chris has no idea how much time has gone by, but Darren is snuggled into his side, Chris carding his fingers through his damp curls as he chatters away about anything and everything. Lisa had left them a while ago, seemingly having more important things to attend to than two boys in a hot tub. Chris doesn’t know if Darren knows that Lisa’s gone or not, but he pushes his doubts away. Even if there’s an ulterior reason for Darren’s bare, wet skin being pressed against his own, Chris doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying it way too much to ever give it up.

-

It’s been hours since their - whatever it was - in the pool, and Chris is getting ready for dinner. Wendy is singing along to Cinderella as her mom gets her dressed for dinner, the movie an attempt to distract the hyper girl. As it is, Chris almost doesn’t hear the knock on the door over the bouncy lyrics of "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo". When he opens the door, his jaw drops.

“Hey Chris! My parents are going to Palo for dinner tonight, so I was wondering if I could head down to the dining room with you guys instead of going alone? If you’re all still getting ready I can wait out here - oh, hi Leah, your dress is gorgeous! - but, um...Chris? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Chris blinks a few times and clears his throat. He kind of can’t think of anything to say though. This just isn’t fair. Darren’s standing in his doorway - nothing new about that - but he’s in a fucking tuxedo. A really, really well fitting tuxedo.

“You, um, you look really nice.” Wow, smooth. Thankfully, Darren just chuckles, albeit a bit self-consciously.

“It is formal night after all. I mean, it’s not like I bought this for the occasion or anything.” He rubs at the back of his neck a bit, looking down at the floor before reverting his gaze back to Chris. “You know about all of the performances I do at school and stuff. It was a better deal to buy one than to rent one all the time.”

_And thank god for that._

The tension is broken when a voice shrieks “Darren!”, Wendy running out to give him a hug, the untied ribbons on her dress trailing behind her. “Wow. You look like a prince!”

Darren nudges her back and turns her around, tying the loose ribbons into an impressive bow.

“And what about you?” He makes a circle in the air with his finger, grinning up at Chris. “Spin for me! Show off your gorgeous princess dress.”

Wendy giggles and does as he says, stumbling a bit into the wall when she’s done. “Woah, I’m dizzy now!”

Leah calls her back inside to finish doing her hair, and suddenly it’s just Chris and Darren again. Darren bites his lip and glances at Chris from under his lashes. He shouldn’t be allowed to do that.

“I haven’t forgotten about you. You could be royalty yourself.”

Chris blushes and glances down his own body, at the unbuttoned blazer and boring skinny tie draped around his neck. “Oh, shut up, I’m not even ready.”

Instead of joining in with Chris’s self-deprecating laughter, however, Darren steps forward in the small hallway, crowding Chris against the door. Chris is about to ask what he’s doing when a pair of hands are suddenly on his collar, turning it up. Darren then grabs his tie, gently starting to tie it into a knot.

Chris feels the murmured “I can fix that” against his neck, and he shivers in response. His breathing is shallow as Darren runs his hands down his chest, stopping when he reaches the buttons of the blazer. He quickly gets the buttons through their holes, brushing off Chris’s shoulders. He stands back, admiring his work. “There, you’re definitely a prince now.”

Then Darren looks back up, and Chris sees that his eyes have darkened. His breath hitches in his throat, thousands of thoughts swimming through his mind. _What do I do? What does he want me to do? Should I-_

And then he’s falling, landing on his ass on the threshold of their cabin.

“Oh, Chris, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you were there!”

He grabs the hand that Darren’s offering him and hoists himself up.

“Don’t worry about it Uncle Mark. I’m fine. Let’s just, um, go to dinner.”

They all make their way down the hallway, but Chris is lost in thought, glancing at Darren. What the hell just happened?

 


	4. Day Four

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/smey67qhh/)

Chris spends his morning shower reflecting on the previous day. Darren’s arm around his shoulders in the hot tub. Steady fingers hovering around Chris’s throat, tying his tie, close enough to feel the blood rushing through his veins. He lets his mind wander as the hot water sprays over his body. A dark bedroom replaces the bright, tiny hallway. Those same hands pushing him up against a door, the same fingers, fumbling, ripping the tie from his throat, kissing the skin exposed there. Darren grins that crooked grin and grabs the hem of his t-shirt, ready to pull it over his head, when there’s a shriek.

From the other side of the bathroom wall. The cabin. His family. Oh, right.

Chris doesn’t remember wrapping his hand around his dick, or - ew - leaning back against the cool tile. He know’s it’s probably clean, but still. Gross. He tries not to think about how many people could have had sex in this shower.

He _definitely_ doesn’t start to think about having sex with Darren in this shower. Nope. Nuh-uh.

He rushes to finish, washing away his less than innocent thoughts along with the fancy shampoo. Darren’s hot. Chris is a teenage boy. That’s all this is.

Yeah, right. He’ll just keep telling himself that.

He grabs a fluffy towel and wraps it around his waist, trying not to slip as he steps over the edge of the tub. The small room is humid from the water, Chris’s skin pink from the heat, obvious even in the fogged-up mirror. Well, that’s not embarrassing at all. Thankfully he’d planned ahead, bringing his clothes into the bathroom with him. By the time he’s dry and dressed, his skin is back the the ghostly white that he’s used to.

But then there’s a knock on the bathroom door, and Darren’s voice floats through, going on about their plans for the day. Or something. Chris isn’t really paying the closest attention, because suddenly the flush is back. Great. How the _hell_ is he going to look him in the eye now?

-

There isn’t much of a chance to make eye contact, thankfully. Darren’s exciting plan involves taking Wendy to the kids’ club on the ship because, “it’s so fucking awesome, Chris! She’s our ticket in!”

Chris might be offended that Darren apparently just sees his cousin as a way to play with children’s toys, but spending the day with Wendy means that Darren’s attention isn’t on him. Which is great for Chris. It means Darren won’t realize how weird he’s acting.

Okay, it also means that Darren _isn’t paying any attention to Chris_ , which hurts a little, but Chris brushes it off. He’s being stupid. Darren doesn’t have to spend every waking moment talking to Chris. Even if that _would_ be pretty great.

Plus, this gives Chris plenty of time to read into every little thing that Darren does. Like how he grabs Chris’s hand to lead him into the club, chasing after a giggling Wendy. Or how his face turns a little red when he catches Chris staring at him. Or how he rifles through the huge stack of black and white photocopies to find a picture of Ariel to color when he sees Chris choose one of Eric. (Which has absolutely nothing to do with how Darren looks a little bit like the prince - except for the hair, obviously. Not at all. Because that would be pathetic.)

So Chris is lost in his thoughts as he colors, chastising himself for reading into things, seeing things that are most definitely not there. Darren’s just a good guy with personal space issues. Hell, Chris doesn’t even know if he’s _gay_. And how embarrassing is it to crush on someone you’ve known for four fucking days who might be _straight_?

“Pull yourself together, goddammit!” He mumbles to himself as he searches for a red crayon. He finds one that isn’t completely dull and starts to color in Eric’s belt. Scarf? He squints at the picture as he colors, trying to figure out the exact purpose of the red sash around Eric’s waist. He doesn’t seem to have belt loops or anything. What the hell _is_ it?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The crayon snaps.

Chris looks up, jumps a little at how intent Darren’s gaze is on his own. He has a blue crayon tucked against his ear, and Chris notices that half of his picture’s background is vibrant cerulean, contrasting with the bright red of Ariel’s hair.

“Oh my god, who even says that?” He barely glimpses Darren’s mock-offended expression as he blinks and looks around, noticing something off. “Where’s Wendy?”

“Wow, you must’ve really zoned out there. She got up to play ‘Stitch Says’ like ten minutes ago.”

Chris turns around to look where Darren is pointing. Sure enough, his cousin is with a group of ten or so other kids and a counselor, all of them intently focused on the giant screen that’s broadcasting a very large, blue alien.

“‘Stitch Says’?”

“It pretty much looks like a Disney-fied version of Simon Says. It looks like a lot of fun, actually. I’d join her but I would probably block the screen.”

And there’s that goofy, endearing grin.

“Anyway, you’re not getting off the hook that easy. C’mon, Chris, what were you thinking about?”

 _Shit_. Chris’s eyes go wide as Darren calls him out, and he looks down at his coloring page to compose himself. Because he had been staring at Darren again. Oh gosh, he had been _mooning_ over him. How the hell could Darren miss that? He totally knows. How couldn’t he know? Chris can feel Darren’s eyes on him. Because he asked a question. Right. What’s he supposed to say? ‘I was freaking out over the fantasy I had this morning in the shower? And by the way, you were there?!’ Yeah, no. If Chris said that, he would _totally_ know. Probably.

 _You’re an idiot._ Why does the voice in his head sound so much like Hannah?

Okay, no, focus. SAY SOMETHING. He racks his brain for something, anything to say to break the awkward silence. And then he notices Eric again.

“Oh, um, I guess I just zoned out because I was trying to figure out what this red thing is that Eric wears?” His voice squeaks, even more high pitched than usual - dammit - and he slides the page across the table in a poor attempt to cover up how fucking awkward it is.

To his credit, Darren just gives him a weird look before shifting his attention to Chris’s half-colored picture.

“That’s...actually a valid question, dude.” He pulls the page closer to get a better look. “It isn’t like he has belt loops or anything, so it’s not holding up his pants…”

Chris could laugh in relief. But that would probably be creepy, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking!”

Darren shrugs and returns the paper. “I dunno man, I guess Eric is just a super fashionable prince. Damn, like that guy needs more to go on. He’s definitely one of the hottest princes. After Phillip, of course.”

Chris is surprised he doesn’t fall over. _Did Darren just - does that mean he’s - oh my god._

“Did I lose you again there Chris?”

Whoops. He really needs to stop doing that.

“Um, I was just trying to figure out which prince is the hottest. I mean, Aladdin’s kind of scrawny, but in an adorable way…”

_Nice save._

-

Apparently it’s good enough for Darren, because they spend the next half hour ranking the Disney men based on attractiveness. Which is probably weird, but whatever, it’s fun.

“Darren, for the last time, we can’t include Simba and Kovu in this list!”

“Why not Chris? Why the hell not?”

“Because they’re lions, for god’s sake!”

The coloring has been abandoned, the backs of their papers being used in an attempt to finalize a list. They found as many characters as they could in the pile of coloring pages, writing the names of the rest on blank strips, and there are two separate lineups on each side of the table. They’re surprisingly similar, actually, though Chris has Shang and Hercules way higher up on his list than Darren does. He’d totally floundered when Darren had teased about having a thing for muscles, and he was proud of himself for not letting anything slip about seeing Darren shirtless. Because that would be creepy.

It’s a really good thing most of the guests are spending the day on Grand Cayman, leaving the club fairly empty, because they’re totally hogging the entire coloring station. Oh well.

“Yeah, they’re lions, but you can’t deny that they’re _hot_ lions, Chris.”

He flushes a bit at that, because yeah, they kind of are.

“But they’re still animals! That’s just not normal.”  
“Chris, we’re arguing over the sex appeal of goddamn cartoons over here! I think we passed normal a long time ago.”

That earns them a glare from one of the cast members, and they both put on their best innocent faces. Which means that Darren flutters his eyelashes and manages to look about ten years old. Which is unfairly adorable. She just rolls her eyes and walks away, deciding that the kid trying to eat the karaoke microphone is more important.

They wait until she’s definitely gone before they both crack up - as quietly as possible, obviously. Which is really difficult for Chris, given how ridiculous Darren looks when he’s trying to contain himself. So they definitely look really weird and stupid when Wendy comes back over to them.

“Hey sweetie, did you have fun?”

She doesn’t answer, just climbs up next to Chris on the bench and snuggles into his side. He smiles down at her for a moment before looking back up at Darren, who has a weird look on his face...wistful maybe? It’s gone before Chris can try to figure it out, and then he realizes he’s staring again. Oh, right.

“I think she’s sleepy.” He makes sure to keep his voice low in an effort not to disturb Wendy. He’s spent enough time with her to know how difficult it can be to get her to take a nap.

“Then I guess it’s time to go,” Darren whispers back, and Chris smiles at him, thankful that he caught on.

Chris scoops Wendy into his arms and they slip out of the club. She’s not asleep yet, but she’s close. Darren takes the long way back to their room, murmuring to Chris that it should be the quietest route. Sure enough, they don’t pass by any of the loud areas of the ship, avoiding the lobby altogether. Which is incredibly sweet of him, and Chris has to bite his tongue to avoid sounding like a twelve year old girl.

They’re walking down the Deck 6 hallway soon enough, Darren humming along to _Won’t Say I’m in Love_ as Chris keeps an eye on the room numbers. When they reach the door to 6113, he realizes that it’s going to be a bit difficult to get his card out if his arms are full of toddler. Before he can suggest handing her off to Darren, there’s a hand in his pocket. A hand that is most definitely not his own. It’s not like his shorts are especially tight or anything, but Chris still has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Even though Darren’s hand is in his pants. His _pocket_ , not his pants. Oh god.

Darren opens the door and leads the way into the empty room. Chris debates the merits of doing some sort of victory dance in the hallway, but realizes it would probably wake up Wendy. Not to mention that it would be totally embarrassing. God he’s such a dork.

He lays Wendy on the bed and he and Darren go to work getting her shoes off and taking out her hair clips - Darren seems oddly sure that the clips would be a bitch to sleep in. Chris makes a note to get that story later. Housekeeping has been through, so Wendy’s bed’s tucked back into the ceiling and Chris’s bed has returned to being a couch until after dinner. Darren turns down the covers on the big bed and Chris lays his cousin in the middle. Darren starts to head to the door while Chris pulls the blanket back up, but he stops when Wendy speaks.

“No, I want Darren to stay.” She sounds super sleepy when she says it, and Darren tries to take another step toward the door in hopes that she’s dreaming, but she sits up and glares at him. “It’s nap time for you two too.”

Chris opens his mouth, an apology on his lips, but Darren shrugs and walks back toward the bed. He lets out an exaggerated yawn and winks at Chris, climbing into bed on one side of Wendy. Chris deliberates dropping everything to please a four year old, but he climbs into the other side anyway. Neither of them see Wendy roll her eyes and smile. They’re too busy trying not to look at each other.

-

When Leah and Mark get back from their child-less day on the island, they smile at the cuddle pile in the bed, and at the two boys holding hands above their daughter’s head.  

 


	5. Day Five

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/g580462n7/)

Chris wakes up late on Wednesday. Okay, it’s not like it’s two in the afternoon, but he’s gotten used to going to brunch with Darren at eleven. He lifts his head and squints to look at the digital clock on the nightstand, the flashing numbers telling him it’s almost noon.

A quick glance around the room tells him he’s alone. Everyone must already be on Cozumel. Wendy included this time, so no babysitting today. Nope, just Chris. He doesn’t begrudge them for going; he knows that most people go on cruises to see the sights _off_ of the ship. He just...has no desire to do so himself. Getting off the ship means subjecting himself to the sun, and the heat, and the multitudes of locals shouting at him to buy things. Besides, Darren’s already made him promise to get off at Castaway Cay, Disney’s privately owned island. At least he won’t have to pay for anything there.

Darren.

Chris probably won’t see him until dinner tonight. He’d seemed reluctant when Chris had brought up plans for the day, assuming they’d hang out as usual. He’d regretfully explained that his parents had already booked an excursion off of the ship, some sort of tour of the ruins or something. It had actually sounded pretty cool, if Chris was being honest with himself. Still, it means that Chris will have to find something else to occupy himself with. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

He gets dressed and heads up to Topsiders, the elevator ride quiet despite the four other people riding with him. He chooses to sit at the breakfast bar - it seems slightly less sad than sitting at a table alone. He knows he’s being dramatic, but he’s _bored_ , and Darren won’t be back on the ship for another 5 hours.

He finishes his food more quickly than usual with no conversation to distract him. Half an hour after leaving his room, he finds himself back in bed. Chris knows he needs to leave, needs to free the space so housekeeping can fold the beds back to their daytime positions. He grabs his bookbag, remembering that he has homework to do for the first time since boarding the _Magic_ , and heads down to the lobby. He’s been eyeing the scattered armchairs throughout the space since they boarded, so he chooses one and sets up camp. Just as comfy as he had expected.

-

Three hours and five pages about _Othello_ later, Chris decides it’s a good time to call it quits. He heads back up to his room, feeling really good about the productivity of the day. Sure, doing homework isn’t the most fun way to spend a vacation, but he had time to kill. He would have had to do it eventually.

 _It’s still a crappy way to spend a vacation_. Weird, the voice sounds like Darren’s this time. That’s new. Oh well, he stops before he starts talking to himself and ignores it. And tries not to be too weirded out by the multitude of voices that take up space in his head. It’s probably just a byproduct of being a writer. Sure, he’ll go with that.

Chris absently hums along to the music drifting through the speakers along the hallways - _Something There_ from Beauty and the Beast - as he makes his way to his cabin. He taps his key card against the door and pushes it open, surprised to see the lights on and the room fully occupied.

“Back already?” Chris tosses his key card and bag on top of the trunk that his clothes are stored in, crossing the room to sit next to Wendy and Aunt Leah. “And where’s Uncle Mark?”

“Oh Chris, I’m so glad you’re back!” Leah jumps up as soon as Chris is seated, grabbing her purse and heading to the door. “There’s a comedy show that your uncle really wants to see. I thought I’d have to stay with Wendy, but now that you’re here, I can join him.”

She pulls him aside as she slips her shoes on. “Wendy’s exhausted, but she won’t take a nap willingly,” she stops whispering to look over at her daughter. Chris can see that she’s stubbornly refusing to give in to her drooping eyelids. “Would you mind staying with her and try to get her to sleep? You did such a good job yesterday. We shouldn’t be long; we’ll definitely be back in time to get ready for dinner at 6:30.” She pauses, looking a little guilty. “Of course, you don’t have to stay if you’d rather do something else…”

Chris shrugs and smiles at his aunt. “To tell you the truth, I’m due for a cat nap myself. Homework is _exhausting_.”

Leah laughs quietly and shows herself out, calling a quick, “Bye sweetie! Be good for Chris!” over her shoulder. The door closes with a sharp click as Chris makes his way back over to Wendy.

“Hey, sweetie. How about, since your mom and dad are gone, we take over the big bed and watch a movie?”

She perks up a little at the prospect of a movie. “Can we watch Enchanted?”

Chris hasn’t actually seen it yet, so he’s kind of disappointed that he’s definitely going to fall asleep part way through. Oh well, he can actually pay attention to it next time. He can watch it for free whenever he wants to this week, after all.

“Of course, sweetie. You get comfy on the bed while I turn it on.”

They’re in the middle of “True Love’s Kiss” when Wendy tilts her head toward her cousin. “Have you kissed anyone, Chris?”

Chris chuckles a little, trying to hide his surprise at the question. His voice still cracks a bit though. “Now, why would you ask that, silly girl?”

Wendy’s eyelids seem to be getting heavier, and she squirms to get more comfortable before she answers. “I just think- “ she’s interrupted by a major yawn, and Chris finds himself biting his lip to keep himself from pushing her to finish. “I think you should kiss Darren.”

Um, what. Where the hell did that come from? That’s _definitely_ not what Chris had expected her to say. His voice is barely audible as he prompts her, “And why do you think that, sweetie?”

He holds his breath, waiting for an answer. He debates reaching over and nudging her to see if she’s asleep when she breathes out something almost too quiet to catch.

“He’s your prince.”

-

Wendy’s woken up by a knock on the door an hour later. It would have woken Chris up, too if he’d ever fallen asleep in the first place. As it is, he had spent the past hour woefully awake, dwelling on the nonsensical words of a sleepy four year old.

He gets up to answer the door, expecting his aunt and uncle. He hadn’t seen Leah grab her key before she’d left, after all. His eyes widen when the door opens to reveal none other than the subject of his harried thoughts.

“Darren!” Wendy squeals as she rushes to the door, tackling her target in a hug.

Chris tries to school his features into something more neutral than the shocked expression that Darren's presence had caused. Y’know, to avoid embarrassing himself completely. To his credit, Darren manages to stay mostly upright, despite Wendy throwing herself at him.

“Hello to you too, princess!” Chris winces a little, the term of endearment hitting a little too close to home. “I did just see you yesterday, y’know.”

“Yeah, but me and Chris were taking a nap and it was weird ‘cause you weren’t there this time. The bed was too big.”

Darren chuckled at the toddler’s exaggerated pout as Chris makes his way over to them.

“Oh, I see how it is Wendy. I’m not your favorite anymore now that Darren’s in the picture.” He leans over and starts tickling her incessantly, making her shriek with laughter. She writhes around on the bed, gasping as Darren helps by lying across her flailing legs.

“That’s not what I meaned!” She gets her excuse out between giggles. “Chris, that’s not-” Chris lets up on her, backing off and giving her a mock glare.

“Oh really now? Then what did you mean, missy?” He raises an eyebrow, briefly turning to Darren, trying to communicate _laugh and you die_.

“I _meaned_ ” she takes a deep breath,  “that you guys are both princes. And I’m a princess. And I like you both the same. And naptime is weird with only one prince and one princess because the bed is too big, it’s mommy and daddy sized, so Darren needs to come over for the next nap. That’s what I meaned.” She nods once when she’s done, satisfied that she got to explain herself.

Darren laughs, but he cuts himself off and holds his hands up defensively at Wendy’s glare. “So, Chris and I are princes? Whose castle is bigger?”

_Oh no._

“You’re in the same castle, silly. You’re Chris’s prince, and he’s your prince. Duh.”

Chris waits for the inevitable weird look, the assertion that no, they are not each others princes.

But it never comes. Darren just shrugs. “Cool, I bet we’d have the best castle ever. But not as nice as Wendy’s of course.”

Chris’s mouth hangs open at Darren’s nonchalance. He’s sure that anyone else would have been weirded out, would have corrected Wendy. But apparently not Darren.

“Oh, anyway! I did have a reason for coming over. Besides hanging out with my two favorite people, of course.”

He’s just being cute. For Wendy. Obviously.

“Tonight’s pirate night! And I wanted to know if you guys are dressing up?”

“Ah, um, well…” They hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t packed anything. “We do have those nice bandanas they gave us?”

Darren looks severely unimpressed when Chris holds up one of the red bandanas that housekeeping left on the bed.

“I might have a skull t-shirt?”

He doesn’t, and Darren doesn’t seem to be buying it anyway.

Oh, what the hell.

“I’m guessing you have something in mind?”

Darren’s face lights up, and he grabs Wendy off of the bed and spins her around. Chris takes that as a yes.

They look through all of Chris and Wendy’s clothes, and Darren puts together something cute for the little girl. It isn’t too hard, considering she already has a flowy white shirt. A pair of dark jeans, the bandana, and her mom’s hoop earrings - not the real gold, Chris assures - and she looks like she could be on the high seas.

Chris, on the other hand, is another story. He has a pair of shorts that’ll do, but none of his shirts are piratey enough - Darren’s words.

Which is how Chris ends up messaging his aunt to let her know that they’ll be in Darren’s room until dinner. They get the okay and head out, Darren holding the door open as ‘Captain’ Wendy leads the way. As Chris is walking out, he swears he hears, “After you, my prince.”

-

“Darren, why the hell did you bring all of this?”

Darren pulls his head out of the closet, where he had been searching for yet another shirt for Chris. Because the first three that he’d found hadn’t been ‘piratey enough.’ Big surprise.

“I told you, I brought Chuck’s stuff out of habit. I like options.”

Darren sticks his head back into the closet, so Chris’s eyeroll is lost on him. He just taps his foot and waits for him to resurface again. He glances over at Wendy, who is happily watching Peter Pan and playing with the plastic hook that Darren had given her.

“Aha!”

A black t-shirt is flung at Chris, who holds it out in front of him as Darren clambers out of the closet. It...looks pretty much exactly like the one that’s in his trunk in his cabin. Except maybe a size or two smaller, jesus christ. He doesn’t say anything to Darren though, just yanks his shirt off once again to try this one on. He’s a lot less self conscious about it after remembering that he and Darren were shirtless in a hot tub together two days ago.

He was right, it’s a bit snug, but he usually buys his shirts a bit baggy to begin with, so it isn’t ridiculously too small or anything. He thinks he looks more like a stage hand than a pirate right now, with his black shorts and t-shirt, but he can tell Darren’s not done. Especially considering he dove right back into the mess of clothes as soon as he came out.

Chris goes to sit with Wendy and watch Peter Pan. This could be a while.

It’s actually only a few minutes later when Darren comes up for air again, hopefully for the last time. This is getting kind of ridiculous. He walks over with a bright red vest in his hands.

“Here, try this on. It should be perfect.”

Chris grabs the clothing and swings his arms through the holes. It fits fine, and when he looks in the mirror, he notes that it does look really nice against the black. Which is why Darren’s staring. He’s obviously just looking over his handiwork. At least Chris keeps telling himself that, because he’s not ready to think about any other options. Not at all.

“Alright, just let me get changed. Then it’s makeup time!”

What.

Chris only has a second to freak out about it - he better be referring to Wendy - because Darren is stripping. In the middle of the room. Chris’s first instinct is to cover Wendy’s eyes but she hasn’t looked away from the movie. Then he wants to cover his own eyes - _don’t you dare waste this opportunity oh my god_ \- because he feels like he’s perving or something. Because Darren’s entire top half is in the closet yet again - and that joke got old an hour ago - putting his ass on display. His round, firm ass that’s in nothing but a pair of dark blue boxer-briefs. Jesus Christ.

Chris turns around - _oh my god what the hell are you doing Colfer_ \- to give Darren some privacy. That’s definitely his main reasoning. Yup. It totally has nothing to do with how his dick is stirring in his pants.

He is so, so grateful that he’s not one of those people who says whatever pops into their head.

“Arrrrr. Were ye lookin’ at me dubloons, sailor?”

Chris takes that as his cue to turn back around.

“Please don’t ever say that again. Ever.”

He’s glad that he went with snarky, because he’d probably be drooling a little bit if he wasn’t focused on giving Darren his best judging face. He’s dressed in a billowy white shirt and a very tight pair of dark jeans. The top of his shirt gapes a bit, revealing his collarbone, and he has a long, red piece of fabric in his hands.

“Who are you then, Prince Eric?”

Darren looks at him quizzically before looking back down at the red sash and laughing.

“No, we didn’t solve that mystery. This,” he holds up the scarf, “is going around my head.” He wraps it across his forehead and around the back, tying the ends together when they meet. It looks a little bit piratey. Kind of.

Chris almost falls over as he quickly turns around in an effort to watch Darren, who somehow manages to leap over the bed and park his ass on the table across from the mirror without stumbling at all. He’s regaining his balance when Darren calls his name to get his attention, waving a small, dark stick of something in the air, the huge desk drawer open in front of him.

“Now it’s time to apply the finishing touches to make us real pirates, at least according to Johnny Depp.” He leans toward the mirror, pulling gently on the skin below his eyes.

Oh no. Chris knows what Darren found in the drawer. It looks like a pencil, but it’s-

“Eyeliner!” Wendy giggles when Darren almost pokes himself in the eye when he finishes lining his bottom lid and turns toward Chris, hands raised in victory. Or just excitement. Chris can’t really tell. He just kind of gapes as Darren finishes applying the thick, dark lines around his eyes - with an ease that Chris _really_ doesn’t want to think about right now. Nope. That’s a question for another time.

“Can you do my makeup, Darren?” Wendy smiles up at Darren in awe, who glances at Chris for approval. He shrugs, remembering pictures of his cousin in copious amounts of lipstick and eyeshadow on his Facebook feed. Besides, they’re on vacation after all. Leah won’t mind. Hopefully.

“Sure, sweetie, right after I do Chris’s.”

Wait, _what?_

“Um, excuse me?” Sure, he’s worn stage makeup before. And he might be a _tiny_  bit turned on by how hot Darren looks right now, but that’s beside the point. “Darren, I’m not going to dinner wearing eyeliner!”

But then he’s pouting, with those stupid, full lips. And god, those eyelashes. How the hell did Bill and Cerina ever discipline this guy? And then Wendy joins in, and those doe eyes are not helping at all.

Oh, fuck.

“No one’s ever told you no before, have they?” He crosses the room and nudges Darren over, settling next to him on the small table. He crosses his arms and stares expectantly, quirking an eyebrow when Darren just kind of stares back. “You gonna get this over with then, Mr. Maybelline?”

“Dude, you were totally born with it.”

_What the fuck?_

Darren looks as flustered as Chris feels, even though he’s the one with the weird, kind of flirty lines. God, boys are confusing. He seems to snap out of it, blinking and shaking his head when Wendy bursts into a rousing rendition of “Never Smile at a Crocodile.”

“Sorry, I...really have no idea what I meant by that. Ignore my whole lack of filter. It gets me into trouble all the damn time.”

Chris laughs. “Yeah, but then you just give them your cute puppy dog face and they’re too smitten to actually do anything.”

_Shit._

Darren just laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

And now Chris is the one with his foot in his mouth. Great.

“Could you just, um, open your eyes a bit more? I mean, I know I’m not the greatest thing to stare at, but…”

“No, the view’s fine.” What the fuck is wrong with him? Chris clears his throat and focuses on staring wide-eyed at the very top of Darren’s nose. He figures it’s a lot less dangerous than actually watching his eyes, or god, his mouth, where the tip of his tongue is actually poking out a bit as Darren leans forward in concentration, gentle hands holding Chris’s face still and - nose, right. Keep staring at the harmless nose. The tanned skin that has just a hint of red where he must have forgotten to apply sunscreen, just like the area between his nose and his lips, a smattering of stubble covering the sore skin and continuing around his mouth and down his chin and neck, which is actually a little pink now and-

“Um, Chris?”

God dammit, not again.

“Could you maybe try to keep your head up a little more? It’s a bit harder to not poke you in the eye when you’re looking, um, _down_.”

Chris grimaces and raises his head back up, deciding to just stay quiet and avoid digging his own grave even further. He tries to let his mind drift as Darren works on outlining his eyes, though the idea of his hand slipping and stabbing him in the eye with the pencil to put Chris out of his misery does cross his mind more than once. Well, this is going to be a severely awkward night.

-

Pirate night is wonderful.

Chris has to admit that the eyeliner does look pretty good on him, though he isn’t going to make a habit of it. Leah’s super excited at Wendy’s outfit, which is totally relieving. The special Pirate menu is delicious (especially the rum baked chocolate cake that he splits with Darren). They get a picture with a Captain Jack that looks startlingly like Johnny Depp. Darren knows a shortcut to get up on deck so they have a great view of the pirate party. And the fireworks at sea are definitely a sight to behold, especially with Wendy on his shoulders and Darren by his side.

Nothing prepares him for what happens once they get back to his room, however.

They trio walks past plenty of pirates on their way back to deck 6, many of them definitely enjoying their rum. There are even a few in the elevator who are singing “A Pirate’s Life for Me,” which would be totally hilarious if Wendy wasn’t mostly asleep in Darren’s arms. Thankfully, they get off a floor later, leaving the boys in the content confines of the elevator, almost silent except for the quiet bars of “Kiss The Girl” drifting through the speakers. Wendy stays asleep until they’re in their hallway, rousing as they approach the door to 6113.

Chris quietly unlocks the door, sighing with relief at the sight of the empty stateroom. No worrying about waking his aunt and uncle then. He motions for Darren to put Wendy down on the big bed for now.

“I have to get into her pajamas and out of that makeup before letting her sleep anyway.” He turns from whispering to Darren to addressing his sleepy cousin. “I’ll be right back, okay sweetie?”

She nods, probably not aware what she’s agreeing to anyway, and Chris follows Darren back into the hall, waking sure to prop the door open a crack so he isn’t locked out.

“Hey, Darren, sorry for kicking you out, but she’s exhausted and, to be honest, I kind of am too.” It’s past eleven, and Chris can see that Darren looks a bit worn out too. Though that might have something to do with being in the sun all day. Vacations are tiring.

“No, I totally get it, Chris. You go to sleep. And don’t worry about returning the vest, it doesn’t fit Chuck anymore anyway. Besides, t’looks better on you. ‘Specially your arms.”

“...okay, you must be more tired than I thought. Or...or maybe sun poisoning or something.” Yeah, maybe that. Must be. How had he not noticed how much his eyelids were drooping before? Especially with the eyeliner. “You should...go to bed Darren.”

Chris notices that Darren is looking him in the eye anymore, he’s looking at...oh, those are his lips. And he looks a lot more awake now. Before Chris knows what’s happening, Darren’s leaning into his personal space. He flashes back to two nights ago, this same hallway, Darren almost as close as this, tying his tie for him. He closes his eyes, willing him to just _do_ it already, when he hears a whispered “Goodnight, my prince” and feels a warm pressure on his cheek.

Darren’s eyes are scared, searching his when Chris opens his own. But he barely notices. His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as he takes in what just happened, that Darren just kissed him. He opens the door and steps back inside, staring at Darren in shock as he holds his cheek. He...kiss...what?

Darren his opens his mouth, but all he gets out is “Chris?” before the door is shut in his face. Chris takes a few moments to himself before realizing that, oh my god, he needs to open that door. They need to talk. Darren _kissed_ him.

But when he opens the door, Darren’s gone.

What the fuck did he just do?

 


	6. Day Six

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/qicbonp6v/)

Chris doesn’t sleep much that night, and when he wakes up for good, his phone tells him it’s 8 am. He groans and throws his arm across his eyes. Stupid Darren. Stupid Wendy. Stupid fairy tales. Why is he letting a throwaway comment made by a five year old get into his head and ruin his sleep?

 _Because you want her to be right._ Oh, there’s that annoying little voice in his head now, spouting the truth whenever it’s most inconvenient. Damn that voice.

And she has to be a little bit right, after last night. Unless it’s a fluke. Which is totally was. A mistake. Darren was exhausted, definitely out of it. He obviously didn’t know what he was doing, and he was too nice to just walk away, so he gave him a kiss on the cheek. Innocent. Friendly, even.

_Yeah, okay._

He sits up - as much as he can without hitting his head on Wendy’s bed above him - and takes a cursory glance around the dark room. Unsurprisingly, everyone else is still asleep. He can tell that he won’t be lucky enough to drift back off if he tries, so he sighs and quietly gets out of bed, tiptoeing to the dresser. He grabs his clothes and sneaks into the bathroom as quietly as possible, squinting in the sudden brightness from the fluorescent lights. He knows he won’t be able to shower until later, but vacation or not, he’s not walking around in his pajamas. He splashes some cold water on his face, changes, grabs his room key, and heads out the door, muting the _click_ as much as he can.

He rewards his awesome ninja skills - god, he’s even starting to _think_ in Darren’s voice - with a sit-down breakfast in Lumiere’s. He and Darren are never awake early enough for table service, valuing sleep and a buffet more than tablecloths and a waitstaff.  

He eats his scrambled eggs and blueberry pancakes slowly, enjoying food that isn’t prepared for hundreds. No screaming children are up at this hour. His Diet Coke is refilled for him. There’s no pressure for conversation, no rush to eat before the first activity of the day.

He hates it.

It’s too quiet.

-

Even though he’s been up for hours, even though he already ate breakfast, even though he’s not hungry, even though it’ll be awkward as _fuck_ …he meets Darren at Topsiders at 11:15.

 _You’re pathetic_ , he tells himself.

 _Shut up_. It’s that annoying voice again. He looks up at Darren, watching his eyes crinkle as he laughs, and he listens to it. For now.

They both avoid the subject. There’s a lot of blushing, a lot of avoided eye contact, a lot of staring. But an hour later, things are almost normal. Almost.

-

Thankfully, they have Wendy as a buffer again today.

Today’s the day of the Princess Gathering. Apparently, a bunch of the princesses gather in the lobby for pictures and autographs. Which...is pretty self explanatory, actually. Darren’s leading them over early, knowing how crazy the lines can get. Wendy is in her yellow Belle dress, carrying the autograph book that her parents bought from one of the on-board stores. She’s been collecting autographs here and there throughout the cruise, and Chris has the pictures on his camera to prove it. But she hasn’t met any of the princesses yet, which makes today a great opportunity.

They’re almost to the lobby, walking along the fourth floor toward the grand staircases, when Wendy stops dead in her tracks. Posing in one of the alcoves in the open space is Wendy Darling.

“Chris, Chris, it’s Wendy! From Peter Pan! She has my name! Can I go say hi?”

The line is practically nonexistent, most of the kids in line downstairs.

“No problem, sweetie. How about you go get in line, and Darren and I will wait here to take your picture?” He stops in front of the Wendy face character and one of the ship’s photographers, knowing it won’t take long for Wendy’s turn.

He turns to Darren, hoping to say something to dissolve the awkward tension between them, but he’s waving to Wendy. The character. Huh. Well, it’s not too surprising. Darren gets really into all of the characters, much better at keeping up the charade then Chris is. Which is why he usually stays on picture duty to keep himself from blurting out something about a hot costume or an incorrect accent. He can’t help it.

His cousin approaches the woman in the long blue nightgown, an excited smile on her face. “Hi Wendy! My name’s Wendy too! Like yours!”

Chris and Darren chuckle at the little girl. Ms. Darling apparently notices. “Oh, that’s so wonderful Wendy! Now, who are these two fine gentlemen that are here with you today?”

Okay, so none of the meet and greets have gotten quite this personal, but Wendy was the last kid in line. Chris assumes the woman is drawing this out to fill time.

“That’s Darren, and that’s my cousin Chris!” Wendy points to both of them in succession, but Big Wendy only has eyes for Darren. Chris glares a little and decides he’s going to keep referring to her as Big Wendy. In his head, anyway.

“Oh, Chris is the one with the camera? Well, that’s an important job, isn’t it.” _Your accent sounds so, so fake._ “Why doesn’t Darren come over and get a picture with us?”

Wendy beams, oblivious to Big Wendy’s wink and Darren’s halfhearted smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I can do that.” He puts the camera bag against the wall and makes his way over to the Wendys. “Though we really need to go after this. The line down there must be massive by now.”

Chris doesn’t notice Darren’s discomfort. All he sees is Big Wendy’s smile, how her gaze moves up and down Darren’s body. His blood is boiling when she wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him a little closer than necessary for the innocent pose, completely ignoring Wendy. Chris snaps the picture and abruptly turns, avoiding eye contact with Darren.

“I’m going to get us a spot in line. I’ll see you down there when you’re ready.”

He stalks down the staircase, fuming. When they catch up to him a few minutes later, Wendy seems to be buried in her autograph book. Good. She doesn’t need to catch on the the fact that things are weird between him and Darren.

And they definitely are. He avoids looking at Darren, pretending not to hear him murmur his name or feel the hand on his shoulder. Instead, he looks at all of the princesses, lined up at their stations. It’s not hard to pretend that he can’t hear Darren’s voice over the sound of a lobby full of impatient parents and their children. It isn’t until he hears Darren’s voice crack a bit that he considers turning around to hear what he has to say. Maybe Chris is blowing this out of proportion, seeing things that weren’t really there…

“Chris, Chris, Wendy wrote a number in my book!”

Chris takes one look at Wendy’s autograph book, the phone number scrawled next to the swooping Wendy Darling, and stalks off in the direction of the elevators.

-

It’s quiet when he gets back to their floor, their room thankfully empty. He goes right into the bathroom, sits on the lid of the toilet, and cries. How could this have happened? How could he be so stupid? He know’s he’s being ridiculous, that Darren’s an attractive guy who apparently gets hit on all the time. But he had never noticed it before. Now it’s been thrust in his face, that Darren can have anyone he wants, and girl he wants. Who was he kidding? They’re friends, week-long acquaintances. Chris was practically Darren’s pet project, something to keep him entertained. Why the hell had he kid himself into thinking, hoping, there was anything more?

Chris jumps at the knock on the door, standing up and turning the faucet to splash cold water on his face. It washes the tears away, but it doesn’t erase the splotchiness, the redness standing out against his pale skin. He looks like shit and he knows it. He wants to ignore the person on the other side of the door, hide this ridiculous flood of jealousy from the stupid boy who followed him here. But the tears weren’t just from the embarrassment – he’s angry. It’s with teeth clenched and blood boiling that he leaves the confines of the bathroom and opens that door to the stateroom.

“Chris, what the hell?” Darren’s pulling at his hair as he walks into the room without hesitation, brushing right by Chris and directing his biting tone at the wall. Chris sighs and closes the door, taking a second to himself before turning around to face Darren, jaw set and arms crossed.

“Where the hell is Wendy?”

Darren stops pacing and looks up, confusion blanketing his features. That’s obviously not what he had expected Chris to start with.

“I dropped her off in the club after she saw all of the princesses. Y’know, after making up some lame excuse that you were sick. Because I obviously couldn’t tell her why you really left, since I _don’t fucking know_.”

Chris curls his arms in tighter but holds Darren’s gaze, ignoring the venom and hurt in his voice. He’s used to protecting himself, he’s not going to let the words affect him. He starts to move around the room, shifting things around the desk, focused.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Chris turns around and glares at Darren. “If you must know, I’m looking for the WavePhone. I think it’d be a good idea to let my aunt and uncle know where their daughter is, don’t you?”

One side of Darren’s mouth lifts into a smug smile. “Yeah, I do. Which is why I messaged them when I dropped her off. You left the phone in your camera bag. The one I was holding when you just _ran the fuck away with no explanation_.” The smile’s gone now, his brows furrowed, worry overtaking the anger. Darren takes a tentative step closer, making Chris shrink into himself even further. “C’mon, talk to me. I want to know what’s going on.”

Chris scoffs. “Like you don’t know.”

“Fuck, Chris! I don’t!” Darren’s getting loud now, and Chris is glad that he saw the family in the next room leaving for the pool when he’d run back here. This is embarrassing enough as is.

“C’mon, Darren. Don’t play dumb. I’m sure this must all be so damn amusing for you.” Chris can almost taste the bitterness in his voice, he can see its effect in the way Darren’s face falls. A small part of him wants to stop yelling, to make Darren happy again, but he pushes it away.

“Chris, I honestly have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, and I’d really appreciate it if you could, y’know, clue me in. Did I say something wrong? Have I been hanging around too much? I didn’t want to be smothering or anything, man, I just like hanging out with you. God, I fucking ruined your vacation, didn’t I, I’m such a jackass-”

“I like you, okay?” He says it without thinking about it. He says it to get Darren to shut the hell up already. He says it because he means it.

He stares at Darren, watching the hundreds of expressions flitting across his face in a single moment. Surprise. _So he really didn’t know?_ Shock. Confusion. Realization. Pride. Something that looked like relief, but of what Chris has no idea. The silence stretches on, and Chris shifts from side to side, the suspense unbearable. But he sure as hell isn’t going to say anything now. It’s Darren’s move.

Chris must be giving him some sort of look because Darren blushes and shakes his head a bit, seemingly steeling himself to say something.

“Chris-”

_You’re disgusting. I’m flattered but I’m straight. I can’t talk to you anymore. I need to leave. This is all a big misunderstanding._

“-I like you too.”

Chris has always thought the concept of a heart skipping a beat is a bit cliche, but he freezes at Darren’s words, swears nothing in his body moves in that moment; his heart, his lungs, nothing.

And then he swallows, and everything rushes at him at a million miles an hour. Everything’s sharper, in focus as he blinks and clears his head. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before taking the few steps to the bed to sit down. He’s overwhelmed, rendered speechless for one of the first times in his memory, still trying to process.

“Chris?” There’s a weight on his arm, and he looks up at the sound of his name, is suddenly hyper aware of the calloused palm resting against his skin. Darren’s here, still talking to him. Touching him. Darren _likes_ him.

“You like me?” He breathes it out, barely audible even in the nearly silent room. Darren somehow hears it over the ticking of the clock on the nightstand, tightening his grip and catching Chris’s eye. He smiles, and Chris feels the corners of his own mouth lifting in response.

“Of course I do.”

And this time it’s Chris who leans in. Darren had kissed him last night, the bastard, confusing the hell out of him and ruining his sleep. But this is different. They’re on the same page. _I like you. I like you too_. Seven boring little words and suddenly everything fits together. Chris cups Darren’s face with his right hand, leaning further into the kiss, not wanting it to end. He chases Darren’s lips as he pulls away, a whine escaping him when he succeeds, and wow, did Chris just make that noise? That’s new.

He doesn’t dwell for long, though, distracted by Darren’s heavy breathing, his eyes dark and pupils blown. _Holy shit._

“So,” he starts when his breathing is somewhat back to normal, “should we talk about this now or wait a bit or-”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.” Chris tries to glare but he’s too happy. Because Darren likes him. And they’re _kissing_. After almost a week of worrying and scrambling and hiding, they’re here.

And it’s magical.

 


	7. Day Seven

 

 

[ ](http://postimg.org/image/45tpcxhj7/)

Chris wakes up with a smile on his face. He curls on his side and reaches for his glasses and phone. 10 am. Good, that gives him an hour until he’s supposed to meet Darren at Topsiders. He ignores the little voice - the pessimistic one, this time - that adds _the last time you’ll meet him at Topsiders_. He isn’t going to think about that. Nope. Instead, he stretches out on his side, letting himself take a few minutes to bask in how wonderful his life is right now.

Last night was fabulous. Sure, it had been a little awkward when their progressively heated make-out session was interrupted by a telling shriek from the hallway signaling his family’s return, but at least Wendy’s excitement had given them the few seconds of notice necessary to put a few inches of space between them. There wasn’t anything they could do about their rumpled clothes, or their bruised lips, or the hickey that was completely exposed by the cut of Chris’s tank top. And they definitely got a few raised eyebrows from Leah and Mark. But it was totally worth it.

Darren had decided to check in with his parents before dinner - after a rather dirty goodbye kiss in the hallway that was cut off by an embarrassed maid trying to get her cart through the hall - but they were inseparable at dinner. They usually sat next to each other anyway, joking around or telling stories or playing with Wendy, but they had pulled their chairs even closer together last night, hands clasped under the table. Chris had worn a polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, thank you very much. He was happy, but he wasn’t an exhobitionist by any means. Sure, there were plenty of looks between his aunt and uncle and Bill and Cerina, but he was mostly too happy to notice. And the ones he did catch were mostly fond anyway. Which was super exciting.

Cerina - sweet, tiny Cerina - told them not to scar any children when they announced they were going to “explore the ship” after dinner, which made Chris blush to the tips of his ears. Darren had laughed and knocked shoulders with him, whispering “Calm down, she _likes_ you. And it isn’t like she’s wrong.” And she hadn’t been. Darren hadn’t been lying that first day when he’d said he knew the ship, and he took Chris to a rarely used staircase near the back of the ship.

Where they’d spent two hours.

Making out was fun.

-

Chris spends a good ten minutes looking through the minimal clothing options he has available before realizing that he’s being silly, this is Darren, Mr. Faded-Silly-Graphic-Tee. He grabs the light blue Ravenclaw shirt, knowing Darren will appreciate it. And if it brings out the color of his eyes, that’s just a coincidental perk.

Darren’s already waiting by the elevators when Chris gets up to Topsiders, his face lighting up when he sees Chris step out of the surprisingly crowded compartment.

“Hey, stranger.” Chris laughs at the dumb joke, giddy from being in Darren’s presence. He’s probably acting like an idiot, but he’s a happy idiot.

“Hey there. I’m surprised you’re here already. I’m early.”

Darren blushes at that, opening his mouth to say something as he gently pulls Chris out of the way of the next elevator full of brunch goers.

“Yeah, I may have woken up two hours ago. Not on purpose, mind you, but it probably has something to do with how excited I am to be here.” He winks at Chris, and it’s his turn to blush and stammer.

As they head toward the entrance to the dining room, Chris is suddenly super self conscious. They’ve been doing this all week, it shouldn’t be awkward, but it’s different now. This time, Darren’s fingers are wound around his as they look for a table. This time, Darren pulls out Chris’s chair (which he rolls his eyes at, though he secretly finds it endearing) and pecks him on the cheek before heading over to get their food. This time, they both blush when their legs brush under the small table. This time, Darren reaches across and steals a few of Chris’s grapes when he thinks he isn’t looking.

Okay, that last one isn’t new, but it means that Darren’s comfortable with him. Which totally counts.

“So,” Chris starts, slapping Darren’s hand away from stealing a piece of bacon, “what’s in the cards today?” He has a vague idea, knowing that they’re going off of the ship for a bit. They’re docked at Castaway Cay, after all, Disney’s privately owned island. Darren’s promised that it’s the best stop on every cruise, free from haggling and having t-shirts and bracelets thrust in your face when you just want to go sight-seeing, so Chris is lifting his “no beaches” rule for the day. He has two tubes of sunscreen in his bag and a floppy hat that he just _knows_ Darren’s going to make fun of, but he can’t take any chances.

“Well, my parents rented one of the cabanas on Serenity Bay, the 18 and over beach, for the day, so I’m free to do whatever you want to do. We can build sandcastles. We can ride bikes. Oh, we can see the hermit crab races! But it’s up to you. We can get back onboard as quickly as you want. Well, with one stipulation: we can’t leave before eating Cookie’s Barbecue.”

Chris groans and rests a hand against his stomach. “How can you even think about food right now? I’m grossly full and you ate half of my food!”

Darren just laughs and stands, offering a hand to pull Chris out of his seat.

“C’mon, let’s get on the island. You’re getting off this ship if it’s the last thing I do, Colfer!”

-

“Darren this is a movie about a _rat_ , how are you turned on right now?”

He can see Darren’s smirk, even by the dim light from the movie.

“Well, you’re here, so…”

Chris blushes and slaps him on the shoulder, but he ducks his head as he feels a blush spread across his cheeks. They’re the only ones in the Buena Vista Theatre, everyone else either on the island or taking advantage of the empty pools. It was actually Darren who’d caved, staring at Chris all throughout their early lunch and dragging Chris back to the ship while mumbling something about “that goddamn swimsuit” and “fucking arms...not fair”. Chris isn’t complaining. The attention is definitely new, but really nice. And the movie theatre is dark, empty, and air conditioned. _“No, Darren, I am not going to sit through a movie in my swimsuit. I don’t care that I never actually got in the water, I’m putting real clothes on.”_ Darren had pouted while Chris changed, begrudgingly putting on shorts and a t-shirt of his own when Chris dragged him down to his own stateroom. He seems a lot happier now, though, if the way that he’s ignoring _Ratatouille_ in favor of kissing Chris’s neck is any indication.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Chris gasps as Darren nibbles at his collarbone. He’s equal parts annoyed and thrilled at the prospect of another hickey. At least he still has another clean polo shirt for dinner tonight. “But are you going to pay attention to the movie at all?”

Darren huffs out a laugh, warm against Chris’s neck, and pulls back to answer, looking up through his stupid eyelashes. “Well, _mon cher*_ , I’ve seen it already. So I think this,” he leans back in to plant row of feather light kisses to Chris’s jaw, “is a _much_ better use of my time, _n'est-ce pas**_?”

“I - oh god - I don’t know what that means, but you should _definitely_ keep doing what you’re doing.” He turns his head and catches Darren’s lips with his own, movie forgotten. The talking rat chef can wait.

-

"Smile!"

Chris quirks the corners of his mouth, but his attempt at a composed expression are ruined when the arm around his waist lightly tickles at his ribs. He pinches the shoulder that his arm is resting on just as the flash goes off, and Cerina giggles openly as she looks at the picture on the camera screen. She passes it to her son, who lets out a bark of a laugh as Chris leans closer to get a better look. He looks ridiculous, eyes close and nose scrunched from being tickled. He’d probably delete the picture right away, hating how he looks in it the longer he scrutinizes the image, but Darren looks positively hilarious. His eyes are somewhere between that squinty expression he gets when he’s happy and closed in pain from Chris’s pinch. His body is mid motion, curling toward Chris’s chest and away  from the hand that had been resting on his shoulder. They give the camera back to Cerina, and she looks at it again and coos.

“You boys are positively adorable. Darren, you must add Chris on Myspace or whatever it is you kids are using these days so he can send this to us.” Darren rolls his eyes for Chris’s benefit. As if they wouldn’t keep in touch after leaving the ship.

It’s their last dinner on the ship, and they’re passing Leah’s camera around to get some last minute pictures. Darren poses with his parents, giving both of them bunny ears, the idiot. Chris snaps a candid of Darren lifting Wendy into the air as the adults are trying to situate themselves for their own picture. Looking at it gives him an odd ache in his chest, and he wills it away immediately. He’s 17, for god’s sake.

After they get a few obligatory pictures with their servers - Chris feels terrible that he still can’t remember their names, but in his defense, he’s been a bit preoccupied this week - Wendy runs over to where Chris and Darren are sitting next to each other, insisting on a picture with the two of them.

“What do you think, Darren? Should we?” Chris looks over at the boy next to him, trying to let him know to play along with only his eyes.

“I don’t know, Chris. With Wendy in the picture, there might be just too much pretty. I’ll look like a troll next to you two.” The adults laugh, and Chris leans down to address his cousin.

“Well then we’ll have to do it, won’t we sweetie? It’s not our fault that Darren’s so hideous.” She giggles as he lifts her into his lap, climbing over his legs to settle  between them where their chairs are already butted up against each other.  

“Chris! Darren’s not ugly! Besides, you wouldn’t kiss him if he was ugly, silly.” Chris flushes and avoids eye contact with, well, everyone as Darren ruffles Wendy’s hair, laughing. She turns to him with a glare, poking him in his chest.

“Do _not_ mess up my hair, mister!”

Darren throws his arms up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, sweetie, never again. Do you want to take the picture now?”

She nods and turns to smile at the camera. Chris catches Darren’s eye over her head, and when he nods back, they both lean in just as the flash goes off again. Wendy shrieks with laughter when she realizes that both boys are kissing her on either cheek, and the giggles intensify when they both start blowing raspberries.

Chris couldn’t be happier.

-

It’s getting close to midnight, and Chris and Darren are sitting at the piano in the lobby, the cruise pianist on break for the next hour. It’s quiet in the huge lobby, save for the odd guest wandering around the ship, the constant murmurings from the Guest Services desk, and the random melodies Darren picks out when it strikes his fancy. Wendy’s back in the room with her dad, sound asleep, while Bill braves the onboard stores with his wife and Leah for some last minute shopping before they close. Most people on the ship are probably working on last minute packing, getting everything together to put their suitcases out into the hallway to be picked up during the night. There’s a heavy bassline pumping from one of the clubs in The District, the adult area of the ship, some guests enjoying their last night of drinking and dancing and no responsibilities. Like it or not, they’re docking tomorrow, and the illusion of free time and relaxation will be shattered by the return to dry land and real life.

Chris leans his head on Darren’s shoulder, the peace and quiet suddenly turning a bit melancholy.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Chris snorts as Darren tries out another ridiculous nickname, and nuzzles deeper into his side. He smells like sunscreen and seawater, despite the shower Chris knows he took between the movie and dinner. He’d sat on Darren’s bed as he got clean, and though he knew it was a joke, he’d kind of wished he had taken Darren up on the offer to join him. He knows he isn’t actually ready for anything close to that, but his judgement is a little clouded by the idea that, once they get off the ship, the spell is broken. He’ll go back to Clovis and Darren will go back to San Francisco, relatively close by but not nearly close enough. Sure, they’ll exchange numbers and MSN screen names, but will that be enough?

“Woah, dude, you look scary sad. What’s wrong?” The silence rings throughout the open lobby, Darren’s arms around Chris’s torso instead of at the piano. It feels nice, and Chris revels in it before breaking the moment.

“I just...I don’t want to leave.”

“Oh man, I know, right? I feel this way every fucking time. The free food, the shows, no homework, chocolates on the pillow…”

“No, Darren. Not that. I mean, yeah, I’ll definitely miss all of that,” He may have cried a bit at the closing performance tonight, “but that’s not what I’m really sad about. I, wow this sounds cheesy as fuck, but I don’t want to leave _you_.”

He doesn’t look at Darren’s face, afraid of what he might see there. He knows that Darren likes him, but they’ve barely known each other a week. Is it completely ridiculous to be saying things like this already? Probably. And now Chris feels stupid and clingy and -

“Me too.”

Oh thank god.

“Yeah?” He looks up at Darren’s face, the kind eyes searching his own, for what, Chris doesn’t know. Apparently he finds whatever he was looking for because the soft smile that blooms on Darren’s face quells all of Chris’s fears. Sure, not forever, but for tonight, he isn’t going to dwell on the negative anymore.

“Yes, Chris. Are you kidding me? I’m not spoiled enough to say that this cruise would’ve sucked without you, I would’ve had fun no matter what, but I’ll _remember_ this, no doubt about that. Well, this sounds super spoiled, but a lot of my other vacations blend together. The people, the places, they all blend together. But this? You? No fucking chance. I’m going to remember every fucking second.”

Suddenly, the deck above them begins to fill with people, guest after guest carrying bags from the gift shops. The moment is over, but Chris is still grinning. And the commotion is a good cover for him to blink away a few tears.

“Well, I guess the caravan of shoppers means it’s midnight. Officially our last day.” Darren rises from the bench, holding his arm out for Chris and leading him up the grand staircase. “C’mon, let’s go rescue my dad from the pile of bags he’s probably trying to carry all by himself, the chivalrous idiot.”

Chris nods, but he holds him back at the top of the staircase, turning around to look down at the empty lobby. Yeah, it’s over, but the important things are coming off of the ship with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****_*mon cher_ \- my dear  
>  _**n'est-ce pas?_ \- don’t you?


	8. Day Eight

 

  
[ ](http://postimg.org/image/7kv33u4yt/)

The last morning is a blur. Chris is exhausted, running on 5 hours of sleep instead of the 9 he’s gotten used to. But they have to be up bright and early for breakfast in the dining room. As Chris wheels the small suitcase that they kept in their room for last minute packing toward their table, he’s greeted with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek from Darren. He tells himself that waking up for 8 o’clock breakfast might not be so bad after all.

Once he has a cup of coffee in front of him, he even starts to believe it.

“I’m sure going to miss this place.” Leah’s looking down at her plate of eggs and bacon as she says it, and Chris doesn’t blame her. He misses his family, sure, but everything on board it so _nice_.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to leaving this all behind either.” Chris is looking at Darren as he says it, though. He gets a sad smile in return, and the hand twined with his under the table squeezes a bit. They both have come to terms with what’s going to happen, they stayed up until almost 2, sitting by the stairs and talking, but it doesn’t really make it any easier.

Breakfast is quick and quiet, everyone a little too tired and reluctant to keep up conversation. Even Wendy is dejectedly picking at her Mickey waffle. She’d cried that morning, throwing a tantrum about not wanting to leave, and Chris didn’t blame her.

The mood is somber as they leave breakfast, walking the halls toward the atrium for the last time. Chris feels Darren’s grip tighten in his own and squeezes back, the connection grounding him. The large open space of the lobby is abuzz with guests, the chaos of staying together and remembering suitcases lost on Chris as he tries not to think about what getting off of the ship means.

“Hey, why don’t we all get a few pictures in front of Helmsman Mickey?”

Chris blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes and turns to his aunt.

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea.” He pulls away from Darren to drop his backpack by the stairs. “C’mon everyone, I can’t believe we almost missed this photo-op.” His excitement sounds incredibly fake to his own ears, and he has a feeling Darren isn’t buying it either, judging by the raised eyebrow, but he follows Chris over anyway. Cerina gets out her camera and hands it to a willing cast member, and suddenly they’re all gathered around Mickey, leaning on the bronze statue. Chris’s smile might not be completely genuine, but he tries. They take two shots, just to make sure it comes out right, and then the group disperses. Chris moves to follow them, but Darren pulls him back.

“Hey, Mom, can you get a quick shot of me and Chris?”

Chris turns to protest, but the flash goes off just as Darren, perched on top of the statue like he _totally shouldn’t be_ , leans over and pecks Chris’s cheek. Chris doesn’t have to see the picture to know the smile is real this time.

And then it’s time to go. Darren’s family is staying on the ship for another hour or so, waiting out the rush, but Chris and his family have a flight to catch. The Criss’s are taking a day to drive down to Miami to visit a family friend, so they aren’t flying back to California for another few days. Chris had been crushed when Darren told him, fantasies of spending a few more hours at the airport together, maybe on the same flight even, torn away from him. There isn’t anything they can do about it now, though.

They don’t draw out the goodbye. There are hugs all around, Darren squeezing a sobbing Wendy and whispering promises of visits and letters and pictures in her ear. Chris clings to Cerina a little too long, but she just hugs him back, rubbing his back in an attempt to keep him together.

And then he’s in Darren’s arms, a hug that’s almost painful yet he never wants to let go. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he sees the wet spot on Darren’s shoulder, feels a matching one forming in his own shirt. It would be embarrassing, disgusting, if he wasn’t _feeling_ so goddamn much. They pull apart, and Darren grabs his face, pulling him in for a hard, firm kiss. Their last for who knows how long.

And then they’re gone. Walking through the line of cast members waving goodbye with their oversized white Mickey gloves. Walking down the gangway, through the same tunnel, the only difference being that, on this side, the signs say “See You Real Soon!”

If only.

 


	9. Epilogue

 

[ ](http://postimg.org/image/myk6djgkl/)

“I can’t believe I let you book a suite.”

Everything is fancy and expensive, their beat up suitcases looking out of place on the gorgeous bedspread. Chris wanders through the rooms - _plural_ \- already noting how insane it is compared to his first cruise. Which was almost seven years ago now, holy shit. There have been a lot of upgrades to the ship since 2007, some of the spaces having been completely remodeled during the most recent dry dock. Despite all that, though, it’s still the same Disney Magic.

“Chris, it’s our fucking honeymoon, and your crazy rich great-aunt Mildred is paying. Just let it happen.”

Chris sighs and walks over to Darren, facing him and straightening his black Castaway Club lanyard. Darren’s eyes glint in amusement as he notices Chris’s preoccupation.  

“Jealous that I’m platinum now?” His tone is teasing, but Chris swats at his arm anyway.

“Oh my god, let it go. So you’ve been on ten cruises, big whoop.” He leans in and pecks the smirk on Darren’s lips. “Y’know Wendy’s pissed that we didn’t bring her. Maybe I’ll just have to take her on a few vacations myself to catch up to you.”

Darren adopts a serious expression, grabbing Chris’s hands and attempting to sound stern. “Sorry, no can do. It was in our vows. ‘I promise never to go on vacation without my husband.’”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible. We said no such thing.” Chris laughs and tries to pull away from Darren, but he just holds him even tighter, turning him around so Chris’s back is against Darren’s front.

“Besides, she’s ten, Chris, she has plenty of time to get this kickass black lanyard. And she got to be in the wedding party. She’ll get over it.”

Chris leans back into the broad chest behind him, humming in agreement. Sure, his hair is a bit longer. He wears glasses now. He has a bit of a belly. Oh, and he’s a pretty damn successful Broadway composer. But he’s still the same ridiculous boy that Chris met on this very ship six years ago.

Chris lets his husband - _god he loves that word_ \- hold him on their obscenely huge verandah, gazing out at the slowly receding coast and letting himself relax. He’s with the man he loves, celebrating a huge new step in their life together.

Now that’s one hell of a happily ever after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! Thank you so much for reading. Additionally, I can't quiet get this universe out of my head, so if you get any ideas, send me a prompt!


End file.
